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dark-fics-4-you · 2 months

Note

Heyyy saw ur request were open what about dark!rafe catches you talking shit about him to your friends over text???

How a Girlfriend is Supposed to Act

Warnings: noncon, forced sex, domestic violence, choking, slapping, oral (m!recieving), toxic relationship, gaslighting

Despite being with Rafe for almost a year, you had learned all of the quirks that he had when it came to his possessiveness very early on.

The first time you caught him reading your texts, you were surprised by just how nonchalant he was about the entire situation.

He was sitting on your bed after you returned from grabbing the two of you a snack, scrolling through your phone, not even bothering to look up at you until you asked him what he was doing.

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N.” He said it slowly, like he was reminding you of something you yourself couldn’t possibly forgot. The accusing fire in his gaze made you squirm. “Of course I have the right to look through your phone.”

At first you were too surprised to react. You had never really had a reason to look through Rafe’s phone, but you imagined he wouldn’t be too happy if you did.

“Why the fuck do you look so nervous, huh?” He was starting to sound annoyed, and his eyes were flicking between meeting yours and scanning your phone. “Got something you’re trying to hide from me?”

“What? No, Rafe! I just didn’t expect to find you going through my phone, that’s all.” You explained breathlessly. You didn’t know why he was accusing you of trying to keep secrets from him.

Unfortunately, the last thing that you should have done in that moment was try to snatch your phone away from Rafe.

His hand shot out, tightly gripping your wrist as he dug his fingers into the bone beneath your skin. You cried out in pain and watched as your phone fell onto the bed, before bouncing to the floor.

Your boyfriend was furious now, easily pulling you onto the bed by your wrist and onto your back at a painful angle before straddling you. You struggled beneath him, trying hopelessly to stop him from putting his hands on you

When Rafe slapped you across the face the first time, your ears rang and you swore that your vision went white for a moment.

Every sound became muffled but you could hear Rafe angrily chastising you from above, “dumb bitch. I mean, I pay for your fucking phone, so yeah, you’re not gonna talk back to me when I go through it.”

That was months ago, and you later learned that that wasn’t even the first time that Rafe had gone through your phone.

You weren’t cheating on Rafe, that much was 100% true. The problem was that Rafe’s definition of cheating included behaviors that you knew were not cheating.

Texting your classmate a question about homework turned into a two hour long fight that culminated in Rafe giving you a black eye.

After Rafe saw you had and Topper had sent each other a couple funny posts in instagram dm’s, he choked you so hard you passed out, leaving you to cover up the extensive bruising on your neck around your friends and family to avoid explaining what had happened.

Ever since then you had learned to be careful about who you texted, and if you ever texted anyone Rafe wouldn’t approve or said something that he wouldn’t like, you made sure to delete the conversations.

You were always so diligent in covering your tracks.

Except for the one time you really needed to.

After another argument with Rafe had become physical, once you finally got some space away from him you had texted a friend, vaguely venting your frustrations with him, without revealing too many details to make her suspicious that Rafe was hurting you.

As you shakily typed out the texts you couldn’t help but think back on the fight you had had. After catching a guy staring at you in the club, the moment you returned home, Rafe had been quick to grab you by the throat, pushing you up against the wall before hurling insults at you.

“I mean you dress like such a fucking slut, no wonder I have to chase these guys off. I bet you wanted his attention, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you with disgust.

You were so shocked by his outburst you had barely registered the fingers crushed your throat, and you finally gasped for air against his strong hand. “N-no, Rafe!”

His grip tightened as he regarded your fearful eyes, “nah, you always think you can fool me sweetheart but you never can.” His chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his eyes, “I saw you looking at him when we first walked in.”

You shook your head against him, tears gathering in your eyes as you begged with him, “I wasn’t baby-”

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.” He spat at you, squeezing so hard you were sure you would have deep purple bruises on your neck tomorrow.

“I never should have let you outta the house wearing that dress. You were looking for trouble walking around like that.” Rafe growled, his eyes were ice cold. You knew that he was itching for a fight, and you didn’t want to give him what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” you struggled to force the words out with such little breath and Rafe finally gave you a respite when he loosened his grip on your throat. “You okayed it before we went out, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I knew every guy at that bar would be trying to fuck you with their eyes, but I didn’t think you’d be doing the same to them!” The more he spoke, the more pissed off he seemed to be making himself. You knew that he was just convincing himself that his actions were justified.

When he tossed you to the floor, you yelped in pain when your shoulder hit the hard wood. You barely had time to reach for your tender neck before Rafe grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him.

“I mean, do you even love me anymore, Y/N?” His voice sounded hurt, and even though this wasn’t the first time he had used this card on you in the middle of putting his hands on you, you couldn’t deny the tug on your heartstrings you had when you looked into your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Of course I do, Rafe!” You insisted, knowing that your enthusiasm was expected and there would be consequences if you didn’t play along.

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and after being with him for so long, you were aware of the ways to deescalate a tense situation. In moments like these you would have said anything to protect yourself.

“Nah, you don’t mean that. You haven’t been yourself lately baby. Always too busy with work to spend time with me and now you’re talking back to me?” He shook his head, tsk-ing as he glared at you disgustedly. “Not to mention, you haven’t been fulfilling all of your duties as my girlfriend.”

You stared at him, puzzled and not understanding his meaning, “what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” He repeated back to you in a mocking tone, like he couldn’t believe how dumb you were to not get it. “I mean, it’s been, what, five days since you last let me have sex with you? I have needs, Y/N. And when you can’t just lay on your back and spread your legs for me, you’re being a bad girlfriend.”

His words stung, and you couldn’t tell if the tears in your eyes were because of the large hand tangled into your hair, or because your boyfriend was acting like you owed him sex, like you were in the wrong right now.

“Now you’re gonna make it up to me, because you are really pissing me off right now, and I don’t want to hear any fucking complaints, do you understand?”

Your body was screaming in resistance, but you numbly realized that you were nodding your head. Rafe’s hand left your hair, finding your chin and gripping your jaw hard.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” the sick grin that was spread across his lips told you exactly how much Rafe was getting off on your humiliation right now and you wanted to be sick.

“I understand.” You forced the words past your gritted teeth, swallowing down the bile that threatened to come up.

Rafe unbuttoned his pants before sliding the zipper down and pushing them down his legs before pulling off his boxers as well.

His dick was hard, a bead of precum already pearled at the tip of his intimidating length.

You swallowed nervously, already afraid of how rough your boyfriend was going to be. You felt like you weren’t ready at all, but the sharp pain the bloomed on your cheek after Rafe slapped you told you that you must have hesitated for too long.

“Quit your damn procrastinating, Y/N,” he hissed, tangling his fingers into your hair again and pulling you to his dick, forcing the tip past your plump lips.

You didn’t have any time to be surprised, gagging and choking on him as he pushed himself deeper towards your throat. He groaned at the feeling of your throat squeezing his cock, urging himself further into the back of your mouth.

Rafe was in heaven, basking in the sight of your teary eyes and the ruined mascara that now trailed down your cheeks. You had looked so pretty at the club tonight, but now you were a crying mess. The noises of your gagging and the steady sound of Rafe’s cock hitting the back of your throat filled the space. Nothing had ever made Rafe hornier than seeing your beautiful, tear filled eyes begging and pleading with his.

He reached out to your cheek, wiping up a bit of saliva that had been forced past your lips. Your glassy eyes were unfocused now that you had given up any thoughts of resistance, too cock drunk to try protesting against the stronger man.

You were doing all you could not to gag on him and choke, knowing full well that that would only spur him on. Every time you pushed at his thigh to get him to ease up, he would slap your hand away with an annoyed grunt.

His pace was relentless now, one hand was gripping your hair and the other was at your throat, holding you still so he could push himself deeper.

“That’s right baby, fuck,” he bit back his groans, ignoring your gagging and desperate eyes when he forced himself too far down your throat, literally choking you with his cock. “Oh fuck- god Y/N, you’re better than any sex doll, you know why?”

He knew you couldn’t answer him, especially since he had started thrusting faster past your messy lips, but he still paused to drink in the sight before him.

“Because they can’t fight back,” Rafe sneered, picking up his pace again, reaching a punishing fervor.

The blond’s dick was slamming into the back of your throat while the large hand at your throat squeezed in warning anytime you so much tried to pull back.

He sped up on final time, chasing his high by forcing you to take all of his cock. Rafe held you in place and watched you choke on him for a couple seconds before letting out a low groan and spilling his salty seed down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow every drop of it.

When he pulled his dick out of your mouth, you took a gasping breath, but weren’t allowed much air before Rafe slapped you across the face hard.

“From now on, I expect this and more from you every night we’re together. Because that’s how my girlfriend is supposed to act. And if you think about giving me any lip about that, then I’m gonna make you wish you had just kept your pretty mouth shut, got it?”

That rest of the night was no better than the beginning, after Rafe had helped you clean up, he basically immediately led you to your bed.

He chuckled in satisfaction when you didn’t fight back against his wandering hands, and as held tight to your wrists, plunging his cock into your slick cunt, he didn’t say anything about the tears rolling down your cheeks.

The next morning you had woken up sore, your entire body ached, and you weren’t surprised when you looked in the mirror and saw the red and purple blooming around your throat.

Rafe was still asleep, his deep snores letting you know that he wouldn’t be waking up soon.

You quietly snuck into the bathroom, grabbing your phone off of the bedside table on the way. Once you had shut and locked the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, unlocking your phone to check for messages.

Your friend had texted you asking how your night had gone, and feeling perhaps a little too honest, you told her that the two of you had had an “argument.”

‘he thought i was checking out a guy at the bar and said some really rude things to me last night.’ You laughed to yourself as you stared at your own words through blurry eyes. It was both funny and sad to you how used to covering for Rafe you now were.

The bathroom felt more cramped when you remembered that Rafe was just on the other side of the door, despite being asleep.

A new notification popped up soundlessly and you read your friend’s text. She was joking about gathering all of your mutual friends to gang up on Rafe.

If only she knew the extent of what Rafe had done to you. You were sure she wouldn’t be joking then. In spite of that, you were angry with Rafe and wanted to blow off a little steam with your friend.

Which is why you felt emboldened to continue texting her.

‘he’s such an asshole sometimes. i’ve been thinking about breaking it off with him soon.’

You huffed, putting your phone down before finishing up in the bathroom and opening the door.

To your surprise, Rafe was standing on the other side, waiting for you to get out before he brushed past you without a word.

You noticed he was taking longer than he usually did to just pee, and when he finally stepped out of the bathroom, you realized with a horrible chill why he had been in there for so long.

Clutched in his hand was your cellphone, and you could see that it was open to the messages you had just sent.

“‘He’s such an asshole, I’ve been thinking about breaking it off??’” His voice was cold and you cringed hearing him speak your words. There was no denying he had read your texts.

You shivered, frozen in place as he stared you down, his blue eyes boring so deep into you that you swore you could feel them burning straight through you.

Your mouth was so dry, you had never felt so afraid of your boyfriend before. Even after everything he had put you through, you had never said anything about breaking up with him to his face. “Rafe, I-”

If your instincts hadn’t kicked in, you would have taken the blow right to your nose, however you had been lucky enough to dodge the phone fast enough that it only nicked your forehead before smashing into pieces against the wall behind you.

Unfortunately, while you had been focused on dodging your phone, the taller man had closed the gap between you, easily pushing you up against the wall by your throat and choking you with both hands. Rafe’s fingers pressed down against the bruises that they had left there the previous night.

You wanted to scream, but Rafe had knocked the wind out of you and no matter how hard you shoved him, he wasn’t giving up.

“You’re mine,” he hissed as you struggled against him. “Maybe I’ve been hitting you too much recently, because I don’t remember you being this stupid when we first started dating.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Rafe had spun you around and pushed you face first into the bed. One of his hands was forcing your head against the mattress, while the other pawed at your silk pajama shorts, opting to rip away the fabric covering you before freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

“You think I’m an asshole?” He growled, the tip of his cock brushed against your slick cunt and you shuddered at the feel of him beginning to force himself inside of you.

“I’ll show you how much of an asshole I can be.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #how a girlfriend is supposed to act #rafe cameron x reader

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nomazee · 15 days

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Um hello! Is the 1k event thingy still up?? If so I would like to request a classmate! Dr ratio x reader at 2:47 am?

it's actually sickening how much fun i had with this i was giggling at my own jokes while typing this out... this was so fun to write THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

my 1k event!

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A blaring, aggravating, shrill sound wakes you up. Your hands go to cover your ears, protecting your sanity from the noise ringing somewhere from the tangle of sheets on your bed. Hands flailing around desperately to find the source of the piercing chimes, you writhe around in agony until you finally latch onto your phone.

The brightness of the screen digs into your corneas as you lift up the device to see the caller ID of whoever had the guts to bother you on a school night.

It comes to no surprise that the caller name reads “VERITAS FUCKING RATIO” in all caps with no contact photo. Your eye twitches and the grip on your phone tightens, just a hair away from leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal.

Begrudgingly, you answer the call, tucking the phone next to your ear with nothing less than displeasure. “Veritas. Why are you calling me at—” you pull your phone back to check, “—almost three in the morning?”

“The works cited page,” Veritas Fucking Ratio informs you matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of sleepiness in his voice, nothing that could possibly chip away at his good image, of course. “You did it in the wrong format. It’s supposed to be APA. This is a science project, not a literature project.”

You might kill him. The project in question is to be presented tomorrow— today at ten in the morning. Ratio and you had been working on it for an entire two weeks, broken up into intermittent hour-long sessions because he was adamant that you split up the work instead of rushing to do it all the night before. Stupid self-righteous gorgeous beautiful academic genius-freak. Yeah, it definitely helped you in the long run, but he acted so sanctimonious about it that you refused to admit the benefits.

“Veritas,” you imbue the syllables of his name with poison, as much as you can when you’re swaying as you sit up on your bed and fighting demons to not fall back asleep. “This is such an easily-fixed thing. Do you know what time it is right now? Why are you even awake? You know, I am supposed to get a full seven hours of sleep every night, and I was already cutting it short today, and you woke me up before I could even hit REM sleep. Do you know how upsetting this is? Fix the goddamn works cited yourself!”

For once, Veritas is at a loss for words. The other end of the line is so quiet that you have to double check and make sure he hasn’t just hung up on you. Perspiration builds on your palms, thinking that this is it—this is the exact moment that you make Veritas-Fucking-Ratio snap and delete your name off the project credit slide, and you’re going to get a 0 because he will wipe off any evidence of your work from this plane of existence, and you will spend the rest of your measly life chasing after your MLA-turned-APA works cited page, too-little-too-late.

“I’m awake because the— well.” He pauses, and his voice sounds so far away and unobtrusive that you’re almost worried. Your breath stills in the middle of your diaphragm. Waiting. “The works cited is one thing. But I wanted you to look at the slides, if you can.”

If you can, he says, as if he’s giving you a choice, which he literally never has during this entire process. You had no role in choosing the topic, or the slide theme, or what days you worked on the project, or how often you worked on the project (because god forbid you procrastinate a little bit, right?!), but now, at almost three in the morning, Veritas is saying something along the lines of oh please my dearest project partner, I request that you open the Google Slides at once, but only if you would like to! I would never infringe on your free will at three in the morning, because I respect you as a partner. Or something like that. That was pretty much the gist of it.

A raspy sigh escapes you, and you claw your busted laptop off the nightstand next to you, opening it up and squinting at the LED screen as you punch in your passcode. “You know, I have done a good job at going along with all of your whims, Veritas, the least you could do is fix the works cited for me. Seriously, how did you even miss that? You’re so detail-oriented, but you didn't even realize the format was wrong until tonight? Who even cares, seriously… it’s just a slideshow…”

Your voice trails off as the slideshow presentation finally loads in. You see Veritas’ default profile picture blink in the upper right-hand corner, signaling that he’s viewing the slideshow with you. The slideshow which has apparently undergone a huge makeover.

It’s—pleasant to look at. This entire time, you and Veritas had been editing a default, white-background black-serif-font-text slideshow. He refused to change it, telling you that it’s unprofessional to do anything too embellished, to which you fruitlessly said, Veritas, we will die early deaths because of the hole in the ozone layer, would you at least make it easier on my poor soul by letting me choose a pokemon-theme slide? Veritas had pretended like he couldn't hear you (in a very quiet library room, mind you), but the twitch in his brow gave him away.

Now, though, the slides are decorated. It’s a really nice theme, complete with custom icons and graphic blobs of color—your favorite color, might you add. It’s—pretty. Dare you say, cute, but you think Veritas would vaporize your entire presentation if you called it cute.

“Did you— this— did you pay for this slide theme?”

“You— n— mn,” he trails off into an unintelligible mash of mumbling, and you hear a loud THUD that sounds awfully like the phone being thrown onto a mattress. Fabric shuffles around, before you hear Veritas’ voice again, clear and composed. “Sorry. I dropped my phone.” What a loser, and a liar, and an endearing freak. You really wish he video called you because you need to see his totally-very-ugly face.

“I thought this was unprofessional, Veritas,” you say teasingly, a smile lining your words as you try not to giggle right into the phone. “What made you have a change of heart?”

“Nothing,” the typical firmness of his voice has returned, much to your dismay. “The works cited is still wrong. You have to fix it.”

“Oh, whatever you say, honored Ratio,” you open up your trusty citation-generator, ready for a long fifteen minutes of copying and pasting information. “Hey, you must be free after class tomorrow, right? Since the project is pretty much over, right?”

“Yes,” Veritas answers after a moment of hesitation, only a hint of doubt in his voice.

“That’s great. Keep your schedule clear, then.”

(You fix the works cited slide, wish Veritas sweet dreams, and then wake up in the morning to completely ace your presentation. The minute the period ends, you drag him out of the classroom and into a coffee shop, paying for some five dollar pastry and joking that it’s payback for the cute slideshow theme that he definitely paid five dollars for. Veritas is an awful liar, and you tell him that, and he can’t even find the strength to deny it.)

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

#nora hits 1k #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr. ratio x reader #honkai x reader #ratio x reader #i love this man he's like a wet piece of bark #like a rained-on plank of wood #this drabble is longer than my dan heng one im sick... dr ratio will not overtake my favorites leaderboard.

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flemingsfreckles · 2 months

Text

Be a Good Teammate pt. 2

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1

Warnings: none, this is a pretty relaxed chapter

WC: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for the support on what is now Part 1. Due to how many people requested a continuation of this fic, I figured I’d go for it! This is more of a filler/plot mover part of the story. There will be at least one more part that will be a lot more interesting but if there’s enough interest and I have the ideas, maybe it’ll be many more parts.

It had been a couple weeks since you had talked with Jessie on the field in San Diego. You haven't heard anything from her, not that you were expecting to after she had told you she had a lot on her plate. Not hearing from her had bothered you a bit in the beginning, thoughts of her constantly popping up in your mind. She was a minor distraction. As time went on and you didn’t hear from her you went back to the way you had been before you had seen her. You were able to brush off the thoughts of her easily, getting back into your routine as if you hadn’t even seen her.

Something deep down hoped you’d wake up to a text from her. That hope diminished as the days passed. It wasn't until the week before your team was supposed to take the trip to Portland to play that you heard from her.

Unknown: Hey, this is well overdue but I just wanted to apologize, I was rude to you after the gold cup game. Not an excuse but I was in a pretty rough state. Thanks for what you said too.

Unknown: by the way this is Jessie, I had to get a new number to use in the US. Feel free to delete my UK number. Keep the Canada one, I still use that.

Unknown: I got your number from Coffey.

Unknown: Hope that’s okay. You can just delete this number if you’d rather.

Reading her texts made you smile and let out a small laugh, she texted exactly how she would talk. You can practically hear her voice while reading through the texts, how she probably sat there overthinking each text only to then feel guilty for not just double or triple but quadruple texting you. You clicked on her number, changing her name in your phone to Jessie (USA).

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought about responding. Deciding against replying at the moment, you lock your phone again and climb out of bed. You throw on your clothes for training then head to your kitchen to make a quick breakfast and coffee.

Training was rough. It was less that the physical workout was hard, it had actually been a lighter day being only 2 days away from game day. It was rough because you couldn't focus.

Your mind kept drifting to the few texts you had received from Jessie. Had she been thinking about you all these weeks? Why did she wait so long? Maybe she was only thinking about you since you would be seeing her this weekend. But maybe she was thinking of you for other reasons. Maybe she was ready to start being friends? Maybe you could end up as more? All the thoughts related to her were swarming around your head, leading you to be in a fog at practice.

It was embarrassing to say the least, missing touches, overpowering or underpowering your passes, even tripping over your own feet a couple times. After you had fallen to your knees while doing individual dribbling drills, for the third time that day at practice Quinn stepped over to you extending their hand.

“Are you good?” Concern in their eyes as they pulled you up.

“Yeah, just in my own head today.” trying to give a convincing smile shaking your head at your own behavior. You had managed to push Jessie so far back in your mind for years, why was she messing with you now.

“Alright, if you need to talk let me know, or go see the psychologist. The team has them for a reason. We need you to stay on your feet Saturday.” They pat you on the back and go back to finish their dribbling drill.

“Thanks.” You gave Quinn a smile, knowing damn well you wouldn't bring yourself to talk with them. They were one of the best listeners on the team and had heard out your other issues, anxieties and just general venting. There was no way you were going to talk to Quinn about their own national team teammate. You didn’t need it coming back to Jessie that she was on your mind.

You were so thankful when you were called to huddle up and end practice. Heading back to the locker room you peeled your sweaty jersey off, throwing a sweatshirt on instead, grabbing your phone and heading to the trainer’s room. You greeted the staff, walking over to the ice bath and hopping in. The icy water causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. It felt good, you knew it would, you often would use a cold shower to clear your mind, but this counted as your recovery as well so it was a bonus. You stripped off your sweatshirt leaving you standing shivering in your sports bra. You took a deep breath and let your knees give, sinking your whole body under the water.

Under the water was peaceful, quiet, the freezing water causing your brain to go blank, no thoughts of the bad training, no thoughts of Jessie, no thoughts of what to make for dinner tonight, nothing. So you waited, sitting on the bottom of the tub prolonging your peace. Running out of air, you resurfaced to find a few teammates and members of the training staff to be looking at you. Feeling suddenly self conscious you grabbed your sweatshirt throwing it back on. “What?” you harshly asked in the general direction of your teammates. None of them responding, shaking their heads or just looking away.

Before you could make it out of the locker room you heard your name called and saw your coach standing behind you.

“Can you come to my office before you head out?” She asked.

“Yeah no problem, just give me a second to change my shorts, I’ll be right up.” You tried to appear calm on the outside. On the inside you were stressing. Why did she need to talk to you, maybe you were being traded and you'd be able to dodge Jessie longer. Maybe she was taking you off the travel roster, maybe she was going to yell at you for your performance today. You quickly changed into some dry pants and walked over and into the coaching office.

“Go ahead and shut the door.” She pointed behind you when you walked in. Her words make your stomach sink. You sat down, not saying anything, just looking at her across the desk. She finishes up something on the computer, hitting the power button and turning back to face you. She taps her hands on the desk and starts talking. “Look, I’m going to tread lightly here, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your best attempt at a smile comes across your face.

“You realize why I have to ask, right?” you just nod at her question. “I don't mean to be crass but that was the worst practice you've had since you started here. I get it, everyone has an off day, but that to me looked like a lot more than just an off day.”

“I’m good, I just had a bit on my mind.” She wasn't telling you anything you didn't know but hearing her criticism of your performance hurt, you didn't want to disappoint her.

“Do I need to take you off of our roster for this weekend's game?”

“No!” You're quick to protest her offer. “I promise, I’ll have it sorted by then.” Not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or your coach at this point you keep talking. “You can count on me.”

“I want to believe that, I do. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one, I’ll leave you on the roster, we really need you for this game, but I’d rather not put you out there if your performance is going to look like it did today.”

“Yes Coach, I understand. I’ll be good.”

She turns back to a stack of papers, grabbing off a small slip from the top. She hands it to you, you look at it recognizing the name and contact information of the team’s sports psychologist and the team’s standard psychologist. “Take this, I’m not saying you need to talk to anyone, but it's good information to always have.”

You look up from the paper, thinking it's silly how now two people had recommended that you needed professional help, all over the fact that you had a silly little crush on an old teammate.

“Thanks Coach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stood up pushing in the chair behind you, leaving her office. You walked down the hallway back toward the locker room to grab your bag. Before you head out you quickly pack your travel back, throwing in your boots, shin pads, extra socks, tape before dropping the bag at the front of the room where your teammates had placed theirs. You moved back

Part of you cursed Jessie for reaching out, you had been able to push your thoughts of her back in your mind after you had talked but now that she had reached out she was back in the forefront. Opening your phone as you walked out of the training facility, you opened your messages and clicked on Jessie’s name. You opened her contact, frustrated from your performance at practice and causing your coach to consider benching you, you wanted to blame it on her. You hover your finger over the delete button. You then moved your thumb to where it read Block This Number. Before you could think twice you pressed it, the messages from her disappearing, no trace of her new number on your phone. While you were at it you proceeded to delete her number from the UK. You left her Canadian number, she never used that one to talk to you, no harm in it staying. You were hoping blocking her new number would also block the thoughts of her.

You learned very quickly though the night that if anything, blocking her number made Jessie more prominent in your mind. She was in your mind while you drove home. You thought about her while you stood under the cold water of your shower, she was in your mind while you cooked. Trying to distract yourself you grabbed a book and the book worked. It kept Jessie out of your mind until you realized how much you liked the book, one of the best ones you had read in a while. You decided to open GoodReads, immediately closing it when the first thing you saw upon opening the app was Jessie’s name, she had recently rated a book. You had forgotten that you were even friends on the app, you hadn't read or rated a book in a long time. Deciding you’ve had enough, you pull yourself off the couch and into the bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Setting your alarm for the next morning, you climbed into bed, deciding to count sheep to prevent your mind from wandering. It took many minutes of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep. Despite the long day you had mentally and physically, sleep did not come easy. Unfortunately, once you were asleep, you didn’t stay asleep long, feeling restless when you woke up for the fourth time that night, the sky was still dark outside. You roll over checking the time 3:18am. Still half asleep you reach for your phone, sliding it open. Squinting at the bright light you find your settings, opening your list of blocked numbers, finding Jessie’s you click unblock. You open your messages, type in her name and then a message.

You: No problem, see you Saturday.

You're not sure what you're saying no problem to, if it's because she apologized, if it's because she thanked you for talking to her or if it's to the fact that she had asked Sam for your number. Sleep is still fogging your brain. You hit send, shut off your phone and roll over hoping you can get some more sleep before your alarm wakes you.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You gave yourself an extra hour in the morning to pack before you had to meet at the stadium to travel. You threw on your travel sweats and shirt before throwing an assortment of sweatpants, t-shirts, and shorts into a bag, not caring what you packed for the 3 day trip. Moving into the bathroom you packed your toiletries, before heading back to your bedroom to grab your phone and the charger.

Jessie (USA): See you Saturday.

You do a double take at the message, last remembering that you had blocked her number. You open it, seeing that you, in fact, had not blocked her but instead you had texted her at 3 in the morning. “Oh you idiot,” you insulted yourself. You threw your phone in your pocket while packing your charger in your bag.

It wasn't long until you were sitting on the bus, stretching your body across two seats, trying to get comfortable. The buses had to be one of the most uncomfortable parts of playing, unfortunately Portland was considered too close to justify a plane ride. You were reading over the itinerary that had been handed out. You were scheduled for a light practice this evening followed by designated stretching and recovery time, then it was dinner and lights out. Looking to Saturday you saw the early arrival time, the game starting at Noon, pitch walk just before that, and time to warm up. After the game you had recovery for an hour followed by the words “Free Time” It wasn't uncommon for you to get freetime after game days when you were traveling, it was nice to explore where you were playing or just getting to hang out, unregulated, with your teammates. Sunday consisted of a practice in the morning, then more free time, followed by the bus ride back in the evening. The large amount of free time on this trip caught your eye, giving you an idea as you dig your phone out from your pocket. You open it to Jessie’s messages again and start typing.

You: If you're up for it, dinner Saturday night?

You realize that feels a bit forward, adding a second message.

You: You can bring a teammate too if you want, it doesn't just have to be us.

Seconds after you send it you see the bubble indicating Jessie is typing pop up, you lock your phone and toss it as if it's on fire into the seat that your legs are resting on. You feel it vibrate against your calf, indicating she had responded. Instead of reaching for your phone you remain still, staring at it. It’s only once the phone vibrates again reminding you that you had a text that you reach and pick it up. Involuntarily you hold your breath and turn on the screen.

Jessie (USA): That would be nice.

The gray bubble appears again.

Jessie (USA): just us

You let the air out of your chest, feeling relieved at her response. She wanted to see you. She wanted to see you, just the two of you. A smile grows on your face as you read over her messages again and again.

You: sounds good, may need some recommendations on dinner locations

This time when you see her typing you hold onto your phone. Watching as the bubble appears for a few seconds before disappearing and reappearing

Jessie (USA): I’ll figure something out and let you know

You begin to type out “sounds like a date” before deciding that it’s a little too forward, against it, deleting it and changing it.

You: perfect!

You waited, seeing if she would respond, not that there was much to respond to but part of you hoped she’d say something else. When she doesn't you shut off your phone. You lean your head back so it rests against the window and you're looking at the ceiling of the bus. You let out a sigh of relief. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest for the first time in two days. You now knew she didn't completely hate you, you knew she was willing to let you talk with her again.

Feeling last night's lack of sleep catches up with you, your eyes close and you’re able to drift peacefully asleep, your brain no longer filled with anxieties or concerns about Jessie, you remain asleep until the bus stops and you hear your teammates gathering their belongings to get off the bus. You were finally in Portland.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #canxnt #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 1 year

Text

Errors, “Errors,” and Animorphs

So in a different post I ranted about how a tiny non-distracting unfixable difference between two shirts is not an error in Jurassic Park. IMHO, a continuity gap is only an error if:

It draws attention to itself and distracts the audience

It could’ve been fixed pretty easily in-story

It makes character, plot, or setting nonsensical

Animorphs has continuity gaps of its own. And I have opinions about what we readers do and do not count as “error.” First, an example that’s clearly an error:

I wondered if Tobias had heard my thought. I concentrated. Tobias, can you hear me?

«Yeah,» he said, «I hear you.»

“Did you hear my thoughts before that?” I asked.

«No, I don’t think it works that way. You have to think at me for me to hear.»

—#1: The Invasion

Tobias briefly hearing Jake thought-speak in #1 breaks the rules of the setting; several other books (#2, #23, #31, #33, #46) clearly state that it’s impossible to thought-speak if one is human and not in morph. It’s an easy fix; the re-releases and audiobooks delete this moment, and the graphic novel makes Tobias unable to hear Jake. It distracts the audience; I’ve gotten 5 or 6 separate asks over the years of people going “I was rereading #1, and the weirdest thing...” It’s an error. I can’t say what happened behind the scenes — K.A. Applegate toyed with a thread that was later dropped, or decided to introduce a limitation for plot fuel at a later time. But it’s an error.

Second, an example that I don’t think counts as an error:

I returned to my life, feeling strange and out of place. That night Jake came over. We went outside.

"I tried morphing the Tyrannosaurus," he said. "Nothing. Didn't work."

"You could ask Ax. He may know why."

Jake laughed. "Yeah, but even if he explains it, I still won't understand it."

—MM2: In the Time of the Dinosaurs [Cassie’s narration]

The kids not being able to morph dinosaurs outside of the Cretaceous Era makes a lot of sense in context. The whole book series would fundamentally change if they could use T. rex — that would become heavily a favored morph for many of them. It kicks off all kinds of plot questions that demand answers: Where do the controllers think the “andalite bandits” got dino DNA? What anti-dinosaur measures would they be forced to adopt? Would the Animorphs’ whole strategy change around having those morphs? How would Rachel feel about everyone but Tobias suddenly having a much stronger morph than her? Would they even bother with contemporary animal morphs afterward?

If the kids are morphing dinosaurs all the time after ~#18, then the series loses a lot of its uniqueness. Applegate has said that most of the inspiration for the series was about trying to help kids understand what it would really be like to be inside an animal mind, with as many animals as possible. That’s part of why so many of the plots hinge on giving the Animorphs an excuse to learn a new morph (e.g. #4, #17, #27, #47, #52) so that we can experience the coolness right along with them. That’s why the war is explicitly about fighting for Earth, nonhumans and all (#7, #23, #53). If it’s not a menagerie of six different critters — including one immigrant from space — rolling up to battle, then it’s not Animorphs. No, it makes no dang sense that sario rip morphs stop working once the rip gets unripped. But the series acknowledges it, and it allows us both to have a unique animal-based story (dinosaurs! Heckin dinosaurs!) without ruining its own premise.

Third, one that I find fascinating because it’s kind of right on the margin:

"What I don't get is why I have to be a girl wolf," Marco grumbled.

"We had one male and one female," Cassie explained for the tenth time. "If two of us morphed into the male, we'd have two males. Two male wolves might decide they had to fight for dominance."

"I could control it," Marco said.

"Marco, you and Jake already fight for dominance, and you're just ordinary guys," Rachel pointed out.

—#3: The Encounter

Later, Tobias’s narration uses the word “alpha” to describe Jake’s morphed behavior — howling and peeing to mark territory, challenging another wolf pack to protect his own.

There is scientific consensus right now, as of the 2020s, that the term “alpha” is an inaccurate descriptor of pack-lead behavior, and that dominance fights between adult males are almost nonexistent. That although wolves usually run in a phalanx-like shape with one middle-aged male and female at the point, this isn’t the result of dominance fights but rather an effort to have the physically strongest wolves absorb blows from rogue prey animals or rival predators. That the dominance fights observed in captive wolves in the 1970s were the result of an ecology error, putting wolves from rival packs into single enclosures. Fox (1972, 1973) gave a reasonably accurate description of how wolves behave if you put a bunch of adult strangers in a zoo together: the young adult males fight, the winner of that fight wins first access to food, and the mate of the winner gets the most resources for her puppies.

However, time rolls forward, and advances like hidden cameras (and the resurgence of wild wolf populations) allow us to watch wolves without needing to capture them first. Mech (1999) follows some such wolves around, and quickly realizes that dominance and submission aren’t nearly as important among wolves who chose to make a pack. Stahler et al. (2002) figure out a better way to introduce stranger wolves in captivity, and get full cooperation among young adult males. Nowadays drones and radio collars get 1000s of times the wolf data Fox had to work with, and reveal intense cooperation with little more than play-fighting among puppies.

The Encounter comes out 1997. Mech publishes the first big takedown of the alpha concept 1999.

Did an error occur anywhere in this process?

No, in that Applegate presumably doesn’t own a Time Matrix and published a book based on the scientific consensus at the time about how wolf social dynamics worked.

Yes, in that the error is pretty distracting — I get drawn up short by it every time I reread #3, and I know others have too.

No, in that the error was corrected in the graphic novel adaptation.

Yes, in that the error is still present in the audiobook, and Michael Crouch delivers the moment about Jake being backed into a dominance fight with all of Tobias’s exasperated humor.

No, in that the error allows for some character moments, both silly (Jake peeing on trees) and sweet (Jake being ready to take on an entire rival pack alone, over a rabbit he doesn’t want).

Yes, in that the error takes away from one of the series’ most fundamental purposes, to educate kids about animals.

Anyway, books are great, science is imperfect, and I think the more we all engage with amateur criticism the more we’re all going to learn about what counts as an error in fiction writing with inspiration in scientific reality.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #continuity errors #retcons #fandom #lit crit #3 #1 #mm2 #there's a related question: if the third graphic novel is also set in 1997 #then how does cassie know about the alpha wolf hypothesis being debunked in 1999?#but again #answering that question would make the book worse not better #so i don't worry about it

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randombush3 · 1 year

Text

Completely and Totally Unattached

florence pugh x footballer!reader

part two to Good In Bed

summary: everything stays completely and totally unattached. why wouldn’t it?

words: 3470

warnings: there’s a sex scene, and maybe cocaine i can’t remember (what a concerning thing to say btw)

notes: THIS IS A TRILOGY. i thought about making this one way longer, but i’ve decided to split this part into two. don’t even ask about the game timeline because i don’t want to talk about it.

Everything is perfect for a while.

You smile when you see her and she starts to invite you over hours before any sex really happens; you wake her up in the morning with a coffee and a goodbye kiss and a face that makes her question the feelings that aren’t in the arrangement.

One evening, you find an invitation to a Tiffany event sitting menacingly on her coffee table. She eyes it with caution once you inquire, and declares she hates events and won’t be going. “I hate going alone,” she mumbles in stark contrast to the confidence of her previous announcement, “and Livvy is in Oxford that weekend.”

You wait for her to ask you instead but she doesn’t. Not then, anyway.

It’s a feeble, meek, pathetic text, but you see it before she can press delete.

FP: Could you come with me?

You scramble to unlock your phone, making the sleeping Katie leaning on your shoulder whine. To keep the air of secrecy alive, you cast a glance around the others on the bus. No one else knows you’re fucking Florence Pugh.

You: Yeah, of course

Florence gets herself together when you reply, and calls you. You’ve started to associate the number with more than sex, but it’s okay. It’s a friendship.

“Thank you so much,” she begins, voice uncharacteristically tender. “You don’t happen to know your measurements? Suit or dress?”

“Suit,” you answer easily. She is quick to imagine what that would look like. Though a bit outdated, you have a set of measurements typed hastily in your notes app. “I’ll text them to you.”

Then, the day of the event comes and you spend the night attracting the gaze of everyone in the room, and having them wonder when Florence Pugh decided to make friends with professional athletes. You beam at her the whole evening, and she fights her blush when Barratt West brings up the new designs for engagement rings.

“We’re just friends,” you tell him casually, as if the statement won’t pierce through her eardrums. She’s not sure why it bothers her so much.

And then it’s almost like an epiphany.

Florence Pugh loves the footballer she sometimes wakes up beside.

Almost an epiphany, because these feelings haven’t suddenly pounced on her. She’s just decided to acknowledge them.

She figures that all three rules are broken: Livvy had known the minute her best friend was checking her phone a little too often; you stay over; she loves you.

Nothing feels different. Even if she worries she’s been utterly exposed every time your bodies touch, you treat her exactly the same as you did the night before she came upon this realisation. She supposes that means you don’t feel the same way. She knows she shouldn’t carry this on.

She tells herself she should terminate the arrangement for another two days as a form of self-sabotaging procrastination, but Thursday night’s musings turn into drinks with Livvy on Friday.

“How’s Y/n?” her best friend asks her, prying because it’s fun.

“I don’t know.” You’re in Brighton for an away game and it’s taking up the whole weekend. It’s an abnormally long weekend, Florence tells herself. Time is going slowly for everybody. “I think I’m going to break it off.”

“What?”

“My unattached sex with Y/n is no longer that,” states Florence plainly. She hides the grimace that comes with saying it out loud, and swirls what’s left of her whiskey around in her glass.

“I told you she’d catch feelings,” Liv teases, nudging her friend. Florence stares at the green surface of the bar, tapping her feet against her stool. “Footballers aren’t—”

“She’s not the one with the feelings.” Livvy pauses, shaking her head; she doesn’t understand.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Livvy tries the sentence out, “she’s not the one with the…”

“Don’t.” Florence holds her index up to her friend’s face. “We both know now. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Have you told her?”

No.

Why on earth would she do that?

The answer is conveyed in the pointed look Florence shoots her.

Her and Livvy speak no more of the matter, continuing their night in the overpriced cocktail bar. It’s packed with the rich and famous, so it isn’t a hard task for Florence to befriend some producer or other. He extends an invitation for her to join him in the bathroom, cheeks rosy and eyes glazed over. She finds herself accepting, but only does the cocaine in front of her. He tries to kiss her but his lips feel wrong; rough when they should feel soft. It’s not a difficult puzzle to solve. She doesn’t really want to kiss anyone other than you.

Florence decides not to put a stop to your agreement that night.

The producer hints that they should get going, get out of here, go to somewhere more… private. It makes her skin crawl. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just not you.

She has never felt so embarrassed of her own internal monologue. She wants it to shut the fuck up. You like her sounds out mercilessly on repeat, echoing and echoing and echoing, until she’s scratching her scalp a bit too harshly. You’re still not back because it’s only Sunday.

You’re on the team bus. Asleep. She shouldn’t know that, but she grows curious of your whereabouts and checks Instagram. A teammate you often mention — teammate and best friend you’d drunkenly explained in attempt to not let her get to know you — is sure to house some video or other, and she’s correct. Katie McCabe has posted a picture of you fast asleep with a familiar green jumper bundled into a pillow.

She hates that she’s endeared. Instead, Florence makes a mental note to chastise your use of her cashmere clothing, and focuses on how annoyed that has made her feel.

With each passing minute she stares at the picture, she imagines her feelings for you smothered beneath the fabric, suffocated until they don’t exist anymore.

- - -

Much to your dismay, you are not loved enough to be woken with a kiss. The whistle blown in your ear is quite far from that.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” Katie follows with equal shrillness and volume. You press your face further into Florence’s jumper. It smells like her. “Get up, Y/n!”

“Fuck you,” you groan, yawning as you slowly stand up. “I was having a good dream.” Katie smirks. “A dream about kittens,” you clarify truthfully.

You join the huddle your team forms outside the bus. Most of the girls chat quietly, everyone exhausted from the hard fought win. A few of your teammates ask you to join them for a late dinner. Katie tells them that you have plans of your own before you can form a sentence.

A black town car parks in front of you, earning wolf whistles from almost everyone. “Someone fancies herself to be Ronaldo,” jokes Kim quietly. “Got room in there?”

The driver rolls down the window. It’s the middle of November in England, but he’s wearing aviators. “I was told to pick you up,” he says, voice gruff but familiar. There have been a few times where Florence has decided you can’t stay over and has sent you home in this black town car with the very same man. You didn’t realise she actually had a driver. You forget to associate the Flo that gasps your name like it’s a prayer with Florence Pugh.

“Thank you, Douglas,” you reply with a smile. The Arsenal badge you wear proudly makes him scowl. “I hear West Ham haven’t been doing well this season.”

“You’re lucky I’m contractually obliged to drive you to Miss Pugh’s building,” he tells you. You take it as playful, but it probably has some truth to it.

Thankfully no one else seems to catch the conversation, fawning over Leah and Beth’s joint appearance to collect their respective players. Katie sends you a wink as she gets into the car in which she’ll be the fifth wheel.

- - -

Florence thanks whoever is watching above that you got some rest on the bus.

She’s helpless the minute you walk through the door with a cocky grin. You don’t have time to comment on how desperate she must be if she’s sent a car, because you’re jumped and are carrying her to a stable surface before you get a chance to take your shoes off. She likes the idea of making out in the middle of her hallway, not doubting your strength (how can she? she’s seen you naked) and ability to be able to do so. However, Florence takes pity on you and grants you the opportunity to rest your arms before they’re put to very good use.

You have your joggers halfway down your legs by the time you get the two of you to her bedroom. She stands up as soon as you set her down on her bed. You undress quicker.

Your lips seem to cover every inch of her, but you focus on her shoulder as you pull her closer, hands wrapped around her torso. One hand shifts south, tugging the elastic band of her panties, warm palm soothing the trail of goosebumps your touch leaves. It’s soft and tender and Florence is not about to let herself do anything but fuck.

She grabs that hand and pulls it away. “No,” she says, and you stop immediately. “Get on the bed.”

Your haze of arousal clears, and you’re concerned. “You alright?”

Fuck you for caring.

“Yes,” she states impatiently. “Get on the bed.”

The victory is easy, and you sprawl out against the white bedsheets confidently. Your pose makes Florence want to absolutely ruin you.

She throws you the strap and tells you to put it on. You blush as she watches you, and try not to die when she rewards you by mounting you without delay (cause of death: too attracted to women).

You gasp as you cup the hips rocking into you, and Florence finds that unacceptable. She is not going to tolerate any ardent touches. How dare you remind her of how she feels.

“No,” she says, pushing your hands off her. “I’m going to ride you until one of us snaps, and you’re going to keep your hands away from me. Okay?”

The unexpected dominance isn’t not doing it for you, and the consequential look on your face finalises the control Florence has regained.

“More than okay.” You nod to punctuate your breathless stammer of a sentence.

Florence pulls out every trick she’s ever been taught about sex, employing every element of herself to complete the show she is giving you. And just like magic, it works.

She does eventually relinquish control of the top after an orgasm or two, sated by the way your muscles tense as if you haven’t allowed yourself to breathe in a long time.

You don’t know how it happens, but you find the groove of your usual dominance soon enough to have her asking for more as you press up against her in every right way possible.

Florence Pugh realises you might be a little too good in bed.

To console herself, she pretends each thud of the headboard against the wall is hammering the bubbling feeling of love far, far down.

The feelings survived the suffocation, and will survive this too, but it isn’t for lack of trying.

It’s late by the time you’ve both washed up, but you don’t make an effort to slip into her bed. She misses the days (nights) where you’d stare longingly at the pillows but never be granted permission to stay, and regrets ever giving in to those eyes.

You sit rigidly at the foot of her bed, accidentally staring at her, perplexed. She finds it all too endearing how your face usually lays your thoughts bare.

“What was that about?” you ask carefully, wrapping your tongue around the words slowly. You’re being cautious. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that has got to be the best thing I’ve ever experienced. It was so hot? You were so hot, and you’re always hot — I always find you hot — but that was a new level of fucking sexy, and I’m getting distracted. You just seemed determined. Are you, well, is everything okay?”

“Of course,” she brushes off.

You know it’s a lie. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist.

“Flo…”

She hates it when you call her that. It makes her skin crawl. In a bad way. A bad way, most definitely.

“You’re really going to pretend to care?” she asks bitterly. This is apparently her plan B. “I’m fine.”

“Oh,” you reply, dejected, “okay. I was just—” You decide to leave it, ending your sentence there. She looks at you expectantly, and you climb in beside her, slipping underneath the covers as comfortably as one would in their own home. “I’m playing next Wednesday.” Florence nods encouragingly; she knows that. “And, uh, my brother was going to watch but he’s been asked to help out with a faulty set, so I have a spare ticket.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find—”

“Can you come?” She squints at you. You repeat the question. “Obviously you don’t have to, but it’s the Champions League so the game will be good and there’ll be food and I can actually set you up in the executive box, now that I think about it. So you don’t have to sit— ‘cause my ticket would be in… What?”

Head propped up by her arm, Flo smiles. “By all means, continue.” You frown. “As long as you win,” she agrees. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You feel a little used. “Goodnight, Flo.”

As Wednesday approaches, you become absent from Florence’s bed. It leaves her sexually frustrated and a bit hurt emotionally, but when you call her from Leah’s guest bathroom and explain everything she forgives you. Her anger is redirected towards your manager.

Jonas has created a new rule that only seems to apply to you. If it’s just for sex, players are heavily encouraged (commanded) to spend the night before the game away from their distraction. When announced, he purposefully avoided looking at you, perhaps allowing you to have a shred of dignity left. Leah offered her spare bedroom because it used to be yours when you first moved to Arsenal.

A harsh, impatient knock on the door ruins the conversation. “It’s late, you should be in bed,” Leah reprimands you. “Be responsible. Or I’ll tell Jonas.”

You are not in that man’s good books right now. “Don’t tell Jonas,” you grumble, flushing the toilet to make it seem like you had a reason for being in there. “Night, Mum.”

Unlocking the bathroom door, you traipse out with your phone volume as low as possible until the spare room is sealed and private. The joggers you’re wearing will be fine to sleep in, and you’re too lazy to change. Once Florence hears the rustle of your sheets, she’s quick to speak up again.

“Sleeping?”

You bite your bottom lip. You should be getting some rest, and tomorrow’s game is important. But there is something anchoring you to the sound of her soft breathing on the other end of the line. You don’t want to hang up. “So… what are you wearing?”

You’re not going to apologise for what’s about to happen at Leah’s place, even if your friend drinks two coffees the next morning instead of one. And Leah’s not going to talk about the name she hears you moan when she walks past your room at an unfortunate time.

Until she runs into you in the car park after you part ways to grab something you ‘left behind’ (it may have been a certain someone’s bum but the specifics are of little importance), and in turn walks right into Florence Pugh dressed to the nines. And then, from the car the actress just got out of, emerges Leah’s stammering teammate offering a half-hearted explanation because Flo really does look drop-dead gorgeous and you’re not quite over it yet.

Jaw set, Leah grinds her teeth judgmentally. “So this is your…”

“Friend,” Florence supplies, not caring if it’s futile and a waste of breath. She looks at you, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, Flo and I are friends!” Not a single person in this conversation believes that. “Sorry, quick introduction: Leah, this is Flo; Flo, Leah.” Your hands wave around the space between them, nervously trying to distract the piercing stares of one set of green eyes and another of grey. “She’s going to watch.”

The two women look each other up and down. Leah crosses her arms, Florence takes a step closer to you. “I’m excited,” the actress says, though it’s unenthusiastic and entirely provocative; a jab at the sport Leah clearly adores.

“We’d better get going, shouldn’t we?” you squeak, feeling Florence’s hand rest on your waist. “Leah?”

“Yeah,” she acknowledges, though she makes no effort to back away from the silent battle. Five more uncomfortable seconds and she stands down. “Let’s go.” Leah grabs your arm and you furrow your eyebrows, leaving Florence to find her way to her seat.

“What was that?!” you hiss once you’re out of earshot. “Have a pissing contest with her, why don’t you!”

“She’s messing with your feelings,” Leah states as if it is a fact taught in primary school. She’s about to continue, but Lotte slaps you both on the bum and tells you to hurry up.

Both her and Katie give you disapproving looks when they spot her in the crowd. You’re sure you see steam coming out of Leah’s ears at the sight of Florence being engaged in conversation with her mum. You kick the ball at her stomach to snap her out of it.

Florence has done her research. It’s a thing she does: research. Reading up on characters, accents, producers, interviewers, actors, and, most recently, you. She likes to think it’s not stalking if she sticks to Google, but amends that mentality once Google becomes too sparse for new information and your Instagram is filled with little insights into your life.

When the arrangement was new, she only cared about who you were, making sure you weren’t married or something ridiculous like that. Before today’s game, she added to her mental factfile with details of how you play. A few updated statistics from the ones she skimmed before ogling at your social media, but most notably a new article from Sky.

Will Y/n L/n leave Arsenal?

It seems that a rumour is being circulated around the WSL that you’re to be traded to Barcelona. You haven’t made an official comment, but the speculation is that you’re outgrowing Arsenal. Florence then went down a rabbit hole of how club transfers work, conveniently knowing that you’ve signed onto Arsenal for another two years. It settles the growing anxiety in her stomach at the thought of you being in another country for an extended amount of time. Moving doesn’t make sense, and you are quick to shut it down when she asks.

Amanda, Leah’s mum, is glad to have Florence to talk to. She’s always been a fan of gossip, and Florence indulges her by talking about what happened at the Oscars. “I love my daughter, I love that she loves football, but it does get tiresome,” Amanda tells Florence with a hushed voice as if she is slandering the entire sport. “I was always a bit of a netball girl, anyway,” she confesses. “Oh, who’re you here to see? I was going to ask.”

Florence remembers that this woman loves to gossip. “I’m keeping the seat warm for Y/n’s brother. He’s a friend.” Your brother was a colleague who has served no other purpose in the arrangement other than his rager of a birthday party in which Florence kissed you on his balcony and you snuck away from everyone else.

“Y/n’s lovely! She’s come a long way, what with her family situation.” Florence is intrigued. “We used to take her to training when those awful people looking after her wouldn’t give her the bus money. I was glad to hear when she moved out.”

This was not on Google.

Florence doesn’t like having her privacy invaded, and so she nods passively along, not asking any questions. Maybe she’ll bring it up with you later.

The whistle blows and the match begins.

Florence can’t help but cheer along with Amanda’s enthusiastic encouragement.

There’s a moment when you look up and see her grinning right back at you, beside the family of other players. She looks like she belongs there.

You want her to belong there.

And, yes, you get tackled because you’re distracted, but you realise you have fallen in love with Florence Pugh.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #florence x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh smut #leah williamson #katie mccabe #woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc

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ohmeadows · 4 months

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[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

i wasn't tagged, i just wanted to do it 😌

How many works do you have on AO3? 10 currently. if we’re counting all past accounts and orphaned works… easily 50-60.

What is your AO3 word count? currently 149,834. if we account for the grand total, well. more. ha.

What fandoms do you write for? i’ve been in quite a few, mostly video game ones, but right now it’s mostly only honkai star rail on my mind though i have the odd rhaenicent idea rattling around.

What are your top five fics by kudos? you and me are a twisted fantasy (kafhime enemies to milkies), i’m on a leash called you (kafhime with dom himeko), da capo al fine (kafhime time loops), the dew of dying stars (ruanliu mara body horrors and cannibalism), and spark (kafxuan horny).

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes, i try to most of the time! i had a lapse this fall where i just didn’t have enough energy to do it for months on end, but i cleared my inbox of that backlog on january 1st. i’m trying to be more consistent going forward.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? none i can link bc orphaned or on old accounts, but i do love a good angsty ending if it makes sense for the way the story has been going. kinda aching to write one again i won’t lie.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of them are quite happy in terms of endings! i know people doomed so hard about da capo was going to have a sad tragic ending but that was… never in the cards for me. i already have it written and i’m very excited about getting there.

Do you get hate on fics? sort of. i wish people would offer up critiques instead of just leaving comments like “ew this is unhygienic”, “disgusting”, “can’t believe i read 8 chapters just for BOTTOM KAFKA” or whatever else pointless stuff i’ve deleted.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? mostly, yes. i think 99% of my writing stems from a very clear and vivid image of a sex scene, and then me building backwards to root that sex in a way that feels natural and consistent to both characters. and i'm always looking for some new angle in smut, or else it'll bore me, so that means exploring new kinks or dynamics each time.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? no, i frankly hate crossovers and it’s one of my blocked tags on ao3.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? oh yeah lol. sucks! what can you do! it always amuses me because if these people just bothered to talk to me in the way of “hey, i love x idea, i want to do my own take of it, can i discuss some ideas with you?” i’d be 100% down to help nurture that. i reblogged a post about it the other day but i definitely feel that fandom community has turned into a fandom clout competition which feeds into this, too many of us looking for a quick boost in some imaginary clout chasing.

Have you ever had a fic translated? several, yes. for a while i had a bunch of old fics translated into russian. it always flatters me that people would go through that effort with my works.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? yes, i’ve written a ton of unpublished wips with others and enjoyed the process, and then one i co-wrote with junie and published in an old fandom. i’d love to do it again, tbh, it’s incredibly energizing and fun, but wrangling two people’s creativity together over an extended period of time is always a lot of work and agreements, as well as being able to actually produce. you both need to trust each other and deliver.

What's your all-time favourite ship? uhm. i don’t know. i really don’t. ships by themselves don’t make me feel that excited, weirdly enough, but rather what people make exist in them. i have absolutely lost interest in compelling ships because the fandom de-fanged them, pulled their punches or morphed every single aspect about them into “uwu soft healing together”. (i could go into a long rant about how healing tends to be kinda… ugly…. in interpersonal dynamics. but that’s for another time.)

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? most of my unfinished wips i’m completely at ease with leaving behind in the dust. most. i do spend a lot of time thinking about a dorothea/rhea court drama au.

What are your writing strengths? visuals, i think. i have a very vivid inner eye when writing and the scenes play out like a movie for me, so i pay a lot of attention to the choreography and details of the scenes, where everyone’s hands are, and so on, to try and translate my inner vision to text. i can be a very harsh editor which means i’m always looking at what effect each scene is striving for — does it make sense for it to meander, or does it need to be snappier, sharper?

What are your writing weaknesses? i feel like my vocabulary could do with enrichment. i spend a lot of time looking up synonyms because they never stick in my head, and most of my reading books is spent noting down words in a notepad i’d like to use. sometimes i leave too much to be fixed in editing instead of putting it all down in the first draft. i don’t like involving too many characters so sometimes i think fics can get a bit too narrow — and sometimes i can play that for good effect, i guess.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? if you know it, sure, if you want; or at the very least use a beta who knows the language. i tried reading some fics that made use of my mother tongue and my god was it jarringly obvious google translate as well as irrelevant. i think it is worth asking twice what effect it will have for the reader and if it will come off as jarring.

First fandom you wrote for? lord of the rings! man i loved my mary sue silly era.

Favourite fic you've ever written? completed: spark. the amount of research i poured into it, as well as dedicating myself to convoluting fu xuan’s internal voice and outlook on things was some real hard work, but satisfying in the end. incomplete: the dew of dying stars. this one pushed me to research more, think harder about what i wanted to convey, and make them be worse. it’s been a very fun shift in how much i allow myself to dig deep, and relaxing and trusting the audience more. truly a new level of sicko weirdo fic for me.

#meadows.txt #meadows writes

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muffinrecord · 4 months

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Updates! YouTube Stuff

Howdy folks! Just a few updates for the youtube channel

Videos Names

Short and quick-- I ended up changing the name of the sprite animation videos into battle animation videos. I was thinking of calling them "Sprite Animations, Magia, and Doppel" but that felt too long.

To be honest, the videos don't get a lot of views or engagement-- which is fine. I think that archiving them is worth it, and I don't think these are the kind of things people will watch over and over? But I do wonder if they're not viewed as much because people might think that they are only sprite attacks and not magia and doppels and stuff. I'm kind of hoping that "Battle Animations" will clear things up, because I don't wanna add the "Magia and Doppels" part to it.

If it doesn't, then I'll leave it as is. It's a little sad if they're lesser viewed but that's fine ultimately.

TO BE CLEAR THIS IS NOT ME BITCHING ABOUT VIEWS, I WOULD STILL DO THIS EVEN IF THEY GOT LIKE 5 VIEWS IN TOTAL. Just, more that I was thinking that maybe I'm not being very clear about what's in them? ANYWAYS

Recordings

So! I've been trying to finish up my animation project so that I can devote my time and energy to other things~

This is how much is left to record! Naturally a lot of the collab girls are kind of. Well it's going to be a bit.

Chisato and Haruka are giving me pause. When I started recording about two years ago (and then deleted all the files and started over and then deleted them all gain and started over again), I kinda assumed that Suzune would get a rerun, and I could nab those two and easily record their non max-ascended forms but uh. Not sure if that'll ever happen? I'm wondering if I should just record them regardless and release an updated version if we ever get a banner for them again. Lots to think about.

Meanwhile, the above is a short screenshot of how many I've completed. Yeah... 194..... This isn't including the girls who still need to be uncapped either. My computer has more space now, it's amazing to move them permanently to the backup now.

These are all the ones that have completed recordings that still need to be edited and uploaded:

Editing doesn't take too long, it's just that my computer slows down and it starts to take a long time when you have like tens of them to do. But I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel! ...Still need to record a bunch, but I have lots of queue so things should be fine.

I kind of wish I had done some things differently, but oh well. When it comes to my channel, I feel like... well, you don't really get quality, but you do get quantity. Even if that's not technically as good, I think there is still value in it. idk.

Thumbnails

My stupid ass was looking at the channel and decided to redo a bunch of thumbs, and hey did you know that there is a 100 limit on how many thumbnails you can upload in a day? Sucks man.

Anyways, the transformation thumbnails are mostly updated and I just have about fifty left to upload now:

A while ago I started to make the characters' names a few pixels larger than the rest of the text, and it's been bothering me for a while that some vids had the bigger text and other vids didn't, so uhhh. Yeah. I also ended up changing a bunch of thumbs so that they show the end shot. Is that the better choice...? I'm not sure. I think it might make the thumbs more boring, but I think it's also more upfront about the fact that they're transformation videos.

More importantly, I also decided to redo the battle animations thumbs!

At first it was because I wanted to put "battle animations" in the thumb but I ended up deciding that plain old "animations" looks better. So why am I still changing all of them? Well...

I'm super honored that my stupid lil channel is getting used for the gallery section for the girls! See here on the fandom wiki. But then I was looking at it and man, that thumbnail sure does look fucking ugly when it's all blown up in your face like that. And if people are gonna use my stuff (🥺), I'd at least like it to look nice on their site...?

So I'm using the sprites from the magireco sprite viewer (rip), although unfortunately it's missing some/doesn't have new stuff/won't be updating anymore. But at least some of the new sprites will look better.

I know how to get some stuff off of Rika.Ren for datamining-ish, but sprites aren't one of them, and tbh I'm kind of not interesting in learning new things atm. So stealing off the Puella Magi Wiki is the best we'll get. But still! Older videos will have better thumbs. And oh man, some of them were ugly as fuck.

...I still need to make uhhh 200 more of them ish but I'll work on that tonight.

Playlists

Much to my displeasure, the results for the poll I made pointed towards folks deciding that more videos in a playlist is better, so I'm redoing all the playlists I had foolishly trimmed (this is also how I noticed some thumbnail problems and then got obsessively focused on fixing them last night instead of the playlists).

A couple of playlists still need to be redone-- I basically deleted everything in them, 'cause it's easier to just start over instead of dragging things around (especially when you get past 100, as it'll stutter and boot you to a different place). But I'm slowly getting there, and they should all be back up by tonight? The Madoka one will take the longest I think; that was easily 150+ videos if I recall correctly.

I also put all the battle animation videos currently uploaded into the battle animation videos playlist.

Originally I was trying to upload the videos in order of release, to make it easier on myself when putting it into the playlist. But that was kind of frustrating, especially when I had already released some out of order and then you factor in holidays... So fuck it! They're all in there now, even if they're private.

This is what you see when you're not on my channel (and you select to see hidden videos). Woops. Oh well!

But this means I'm more willing to go out of order in the uploads :)

Conclusion

I really wanted to get this all wrapped up so I can start to move on to other things! Like, ya know, my webcomic project. And also liveblogs!

Oh speaking of which... wait maybe I should make it a separate update... hmmmm. Yeah I'll do that.

Anyways, yeah! It'll be nice once I no longer need to upload a video every day, but it's also not too bad. I'm just glad I have a huge amount of queue, which'll give me time to look for some of the older collab characters. I'm not entirely sure how I'll film their little poke animations... Maybe I'll have to ask around, or perhaps use the kyugay sprite site? I have no idea how to record my screen. Ah man.

But I think the channel is heading towards a decent place, and I'm excited to finish everything up :)

Hope y'all aren't too bothered by the spam of videos! It's gonna be a couple more months at least....

#Magia Record #Youtube Stuff #Im not really sure if this should go into the tag...#I apologize if you feel it's spam #but i did put it under a read more!

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pertinax--loculos · 7 months

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So, I accidentally re-read Absent That Night yesterday (which is a whole post unto itself, which I'll probably get around to tomorrow), but I thought in honour of its almost-Second-Birthday, I'd pick some choice lines to share. ^_^

This, obviously, continues under the cut, because dude, it got long. Ten excerpts of varying length, for your perusal. ^_^

Latrell managed one final, almost-genuine smile before he turned away. It evaporated almost immediately, his mind racing ahead, the day stretching out in front of him, formless, pointless. He was going to have to think of something to take up his time. Something that hopefully wouldn’t frustrate him as much as most of this morning had. He’d think of something. He just had to be careful he didn’t end up at a bar. [scene break] Latrell ended up at a bar.

"So here's a fun question," Latrell said, leaning back in his chair. Albie looked up at him from where she was comparing two photos on the desk beside her monitor. Her expression was wary. Latrell tapped his pen rapidly against the edge of the desk. "Why didn't [Nox] carve his signature into her?" Albie pulled a face. "Seriously?" "Yeah, seriously." Latrell sat forward again, holding her gaze. "How much is that book worth? Nearly a million? But who could put a price on a human life? Isn't that the most valuable thing in that room?"

Latrell was two and a half blocks from the relative comfort of Ronan’s apartment when a car screeched to a halt at the curb in front of him and Eliza Laurie toppled out. He almost resisted the urge to groan, and then didn’t bother. Laurie’s grin amped up the wattage by about a thousand percent when she heard it. “Agent Latrell,” she called as she click-clacked up the sidewalk to him. “Spare a moment?” Her lipstick today was the colour of arterial blood. Latrell tried to keep walking, but that only allowed her to invade his personal space that much quicker.

What was decidedly not normal was the huge whitewashed domes rising out of the earth directly ahead of the car. There were five of them, varying in size; the smallest maybe twenty feet across, the largest easily more than fifty. They rose out of the ground like humps, three or so feet high at their apex, their edges invisible beyond the scraggly grass and detritus that had collected around them. The bitumen upon which the car was parked extended all the way to the domes, part of the same infrastructure, and Latrell had the insane impression that they were literally stopped in a long-dead parking lot. He was still blinking. It still wasn't helping. "It's an aquarium," Nox said, inexplicably.

5. [deleted scene]

“You good, sunshine?” Nox said, stepping around Latrell to get to the kettle. Latrell really needed to nip that fucking nickname in the bud. He said, “Yeah. Just thinking. Going over what we know.” Nox arched an eyebrow, though his gaze stayed fixed on the water he poured into his mug. His voice lifted a little, carrying to the rest of the room. “You can share with the class, y’know. We don’t bite.” “I do,” Gault called. Nox rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Well, Mark does. But only in certain contexts.”

“What about your Phone Friends?” Latrell managed to keep the wry twist to a minimum. Nox waved a hand. Broad and expansive, far less carefully controlled than usual. Said, "I am unconvinced of the malleability of the people who live in my phone." "How charmingly enigmatic." Latrell didn't bother to modulate the wryness this time. "I am. I also have a proposal." "Ominous." "Look at you, hitting all my major personality traits!" Even in profile, Latrell could see the crinkle at the corner of his mouth, the parting of his lips, the fine lines fanning from his eyes. Nox took a long swallow from his coffee, continued, "We need more people."

“There’s something else I have to tell you.” Albie shot him a quick glance. “Oh?” Latrell pulled his glasses off, pinched a forefinger and thumb across his eyes. “It’s… complicated, alright? And I’ll go into more detail when we get there. Just figured I shouldn’t spring it on you right after you’ve just met our favourite felon.” “Your favourite felon, maybe,” Albie said. The teasing note didn’t quite conceal the apprehension, the disapproval apparent in the downturn of her mouth. She compensated by adding, “I’m yet to form an opinion.”

He didn’t hesitate when he reached the glowing green exit sign. Pushed out the door and emerged into the night. It was cooler still out here. Brighter, too, the moon nearly full, hovering just above the tips of the buildings. The emergency exit opened onto a square of bitumen, bordered on all sides by buildings with their backs turned. Nobody wanted a view of a spit of blacktop. Alleys cut paths between them, leading to… places. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Nox leant against Ralph’s hood, ankles crossed. He flipped the keys once around his finger as Latrell let the door fall shut behind him. “Where to, sunshine?” he said, voice low, just loud enough to carry across the distance between them.

“Oh no no no, this will not do at all! This is awful! Do you people not have charters against this sort of thing? This is simply inhumane!” Latrell blinked rapidly. His glasses were askew, almost as much as his body, crumpled on the cold hard cot. His limbs screamed as he straightened them, which did nothing for his too-fast breathing or the too-hard slam of his pulse, but at least served to bring him more firmly into the present, into the real and the now. He removed his glasses, wiped savagely at his eyes, replaced them. Surveyed the room in front of him with more mental acuity than the first pass. Wondered if he was still dreaming. Cassandra Nightingale stood in the centre of the room, her back to him. She towered over whoever she was facing, but then she towered over everyone. Filled every space she entered, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, regardless of their relative size. Her dress was different to the one she’d worn at the fundraiser, though would have fit in just as well; layers upon layers of different peach materials, lace and silk and something decidedly poofy, terminating at her ankles in order to show off her terrifyingly high stiletto heels. She shook a finger in the face of whoever she was talking to. Even with her back turned, Latrell had seen the gesture enough to place it. “This is unacceptable! Can you people not see that? Is this some form of passive torture you are trying to inflict upon innocent people? Do I need to remind you that the foundation of our justice system is innocent until proven guilty?”

10.

The thick heavy ball broke free, rising up Latrell’s throat even as he tried to grab it and swallow it back down. [Redacted]’s laugh followed the strangled choked broken sob into the echoing stillness of the room. “Naw, don’t be like that.” [Their] voice was cutting, mocking, coming from every corner and every flat surface of the space. Latrell realised his eyes were still shut. Reluctantly pried them open. For what good it would do him. If [Redaced] didn’t want him to, he’d never see the final blow coming. “What do you say, Latrell? Should we explore more of this old aquarium? I’ll give you a sixty second headstart if you wanna make a run for it.” Beat. A laugh, loud, malicious. “Don’t think you’ll get very far with that amount of time, though. Not on that knee. Let’s say two minutes. What do you think?” “I think,” said a second voice from nowhere and everywhere, “That you talk too fucking much.”

#pockets muses IRL #WIP: ATN #sidenote: weirdly i feel like re-RED needs a hyphen #while reREED doesn't #so that's an interesting discovery #but anyway #LOOK AT MY BOYS #i'll get more into this tomorrow i hope but dude #i'm hoping to spend a month or so with them #and it's making me feel things #i love them sm 😍

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da-proti-toku-grem · 6 months

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1, 17, 13, 15!

Sorry this took so long but here:

1. what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

Umm this one's interesting, let's see... (in no particular order) sorry, this one ended up being long af but i'm not deleting it lol

- I'm going to start with the fact that I spent almost my entire childhood having no friends (except for my lifelong best friend, but we live in different cities and before we had phones we only saw each other about 3 or 4 times a year), because I already talked a little about it in the post I made a while ago. As I said, honestly, the fact that they ignored me or picked on me didn't affect me directly, but it's true that it has made it very difficult for me to trust people, besides the fact that I "hide" many things about myself (eg. my tastes, my opinions on certain topics or my problems) because of the fact that I've never had anyone I could tell it to, so it has become a bad habit I guess

- Discovering tumblr and meeting people through here. It's a little connected to what I just said, because I've always thought that no one was interested in the same things as me, that I was "weird" because I liked things that maybe people didn't even know about. But when I discovered tumblr and started to see that there are actually a lot more people and that I'm really not the only one, it made me realize that it's not "weird" that, to give the example of Joker Out, it makes me happy to see videos/photos of a group of five guys who live in a country I don't know, who speak a language I don't know and who don't even know I exist. They just make me happy and that's it, if it bothers someone they can just look away, you don't have to comment on everyone's lifes :/

- Oh man, idk what else to say... Well, let's say that being an older sister (and the only girl between all my cousins, at least until my little cousin was born) has really shaped me. You know, the fact that I'm always the first one to do stuff (starting high school, going to uni, turning 18 and all that stuff) always makes me kinda anxious because I don't know what to expect. In my brother's case, he can always ask me how I did it, or how it went when I did something like "how was your first day of high school" or "you had this teacher one year, how are they like?" and things like that. Maybe it seems stupid, but when you don't have all those simple little things that he knows/can ask me anytime, you never know what to expect and that makes me so anxious (to the point that I cry even, and I don't cry easily so...)

13. what are you doing right now?

Crying because I suddenly remembered a song that I loved a few years ago called Even Angels by Carlos Marco & Blas Cantó and the lyrics are just so 🤧😭 like:

"When you sky comes falling down and the silence steals the sound, don't be afraid, know it's okay to be fragile, even angels hit the ground before they fly"

The lyrics + their voices give me goosebumps every time

I discovered it at the perfect moment and I remember crying every time I heard it and... yeah

15. what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

The first thing that came to my mind was: anywhere I am with my family, with my middle brother's random jokes and my little brother's warm hugs OR being alone in my room, petting my dog and doing absolutely nothing (for once)

17. name 3 things that make you happy

- My dog 🥰 (she deserves her own place in the list)

- Listening to music all day and movie nights with my family

- Joker Out/Jere/all my mutuals (and non-mutuals that I interact with). I won't expand too much because I already said A LOT in the first one, but just seeing their content and listening to their music makes me so happy. And also my mutuals because I love interacting with y'all and going crazy about these silly bois together every day <3

+ Bonus because it also deserves it's own place in the list:

- Jure's smile. He literally lights up the whole world when he smiles, I love my sunshine boy so much 🥹

I know I technically said more than 3 but I categorized them lmao

questions I think would be fun to be asked

#i feel like i talked too much #but honestly writing this felt like free therapy so #thanks for the asks eryka 💜#ask #random #maca speaks #personal #i guess?

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 11 months

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I know you are probably sick of talking about the plagiarism, but I am so fucking scared of the whole situation. Like she is full on denying she ever stole and out here post the story again and planting you as a crazy bully that trying to keep down a small creator which is false. Her and her followers are like it’s a similar idea and with similar ideas and situations of course the words are the same, but no this is deadass a plagiarism. If I just write twilight and change the names to Edwin and Belle and make it set in London doesn’t make it any less Twilight. I have literally deleted all my fics because I don’t have the energy for this possibly happening.

Like how could people be so delusional and think this is not plagiarism. Like if it walks like a duck and talk like a duck. It’s a fucking duck.

And one of her followers were like. Of course it similar you were a fan you can’t just not remember things. And I’m like yeah you can remember something but you don’t have to switch up a few words and call it your own. Like if this was college or a job and she did this she would be fired.

Ah, it’s a weird one, nonnie - I’m not super bothered by the plagiarism thing anymore, but I owe that every time I answer an ask about it she’s going to hop online to call me names. Her latest one is ‘abuser’, I think. Lol, wild. “I plagiarised, so she’s an abuser for holding me accountable.” Definitely has to be a teenager!

I’m sorry this whole thing has made you so frightened; people really are the fucking worst, and that’s the part of adulthood that sucks the most. Realising that the scariest thing in the world is actually just other human beings is the worst discovery ever. I’m so sorry you’ve felt the need to delete your stuff - I hate that this person is contributing to the negativity of fandom so much. Eventually, she’ll get tired of her bullshit, and I’ll still be here doing what I love, which is writing. At least, I’ve locked down my work so that people can’t copy and paste it so easily (for the most part, anyway). If you want, I can link you to the stuff that helped me do that!

I hope that one day, you feel it’s safer to come back and post your own work again! When you do, I’ll cheer for you ❤️

#personal asks

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soft-jihoonie · 9 months

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I Wanna Stay By You Forever - Chapter 8

Kyungsoo x Jongdae + Baekhyun x Chanyeol + Sehun x Jongin - 2.3K Words - Fluff and Angst

Part 2 of the Baby Don’t Go series - Part 1 is here

This is also posted on AO3.

A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Kyungsoo goes two days without speaking to or seeing Jongdae. Since they’d started their situationship, they’ve never gone this long without speaking before. Jongdae has tried messaging and calling Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo just doesn’t feel able to see him yet. He’s sure some people may think he’s being overdramatic, but he’d let himself fall too easily into the idea of being Jongdae’s boyfriend, and it still hurts to think that Jongdae never saw a future for them. He guesses he’d let himself get hopeful that he and Jongdae would end up blissfully happy like Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but this wake-up call has reminded him of the pain Chanyeol went through to get to this happiness.

Speaking of the devil, Chanyeol walks into the living room, lightly tapping Kyungsoo’s head as he says, “What ya thinking about, Soo?”

“Do you think I’m being overdramatic?”

Chanyeol moves over to the cereal cupboard in the kitchen, pulling out a box of cornflakes as he responds, “Staring into a bowl of cereal at 10am looking like your world’s ending? Yeah, I’d say that’s a bit overdramatic.”

Kyungsoo chuckles, finally taking another bite of his now soggy cereal. Chanyeol walks over to the table, setting his bowl of cereal down opposite Kyungsoo. As he pulls the chair out to sit down, Kyungsoo responds, “No, I mean do you think I’m being overdramatic about the Jongdae situation?”

Chanyeol stops mid-chew, swallowing before responding, “I mean, I think it’s perfectly understandable that the whole situation hurt you so much.”

“But?”

“But, there’s only so long Baekhyun and I can tell Jongdae you’re ill and don’t want to see anybody, I mean you must get how hard it is for Baekhyun to lie to Jongdae.”

Kyungsoo nods, eating a few more spoonfuls of cereal before finally responding, “You’re right, I should at least send him a text so he doesn’t think I’m dead.”

Chanyeol smiles and says, “Thank fuck, you have no idea how whiney Baekhyun’s been to me.”

Kyungsoo chuckles, standing up with his bowl in hand as he responds, “I hadn’t heard anything?”

“Of course, he’s not gonna whine to you, he’s just a whiney baby to me”

Kyungsoo laughs as he heads to wash his bowl, calling back, “Should I tell him you said that?”

“Tell him and I’ll tell Jongdae you spent the weekend moping over him”

Washing his bowl, Kyungsoo responds, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Chanyeol smirks as he comes into the kitchen, nudging Kyungsoo out of the way of the sink as he says, “That’s what I thought.”

Kyungsoo places his bowl on the drying rack, drying his hands with a tea towel before pulling his phone out of his pocket as he responds, “You’re the worst best friend.”

“Oh really? Is that why you’re about to take my advice and message Jongdae?”

“How do you know I’m not just texting Mingyu?”

Leaning over to look at Kyungsoo’s phone screen, Chanyeol says, “Because you’d never take that long to type out ‘Hello’ to Mingyu.”

Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol away, deleting the ‘Hello’ as he says, “If you’re not going to help me then go bother your boyfriend.”

Chanyeol lets out a dramatic sigh, taking the phone out of Kyungsoo’s hand as he says, “Alright, I suppose I’ll lend you my master communication skills.”

Kyungsoo lets out a laugh, he wants to argue but Chanyeol has his phone and could very much jeopardise him right now. So instead, he just says, “Promise me you’ll show me what you’ve written before you press send?”

“Yeah yeah, I promise, I’m basically done.”

Sure enough, a few moments later Chanyeol passes Kyungsoo the phone, calling out “You can thank me later”, as he walks out of the kitchen.

Kyungsoo ignores him, eyes lowering to read the typed-out message on the phone screen. He has to give it to Chanyeol, he clearly knows how Kyungsoo would text. The message reads ‘Hey, sorry for the silence. I had an awful cold and couldn’t do much but sleep. Chanyeol had to force me to let him look after me, you know how stubborn I can be!’

Kyungsoo’s finger hovers over send before he decided to add ‘I hope you’re doing okay x’ as an afterthought. He doesn’t want Jongdae to think he hates him or doesn’t want him around, it’s not Jongdae’s fault that he got so attached.

He reads the message over a few more times before deciding that he can’t do anything more and pressing send. The moment he sees the words on the screen in a blue bubble, he quickly locks his phone, stuffing it in his pyjama pant pockets and deciding to go and get dressed.

He ignores the worry blooming across his body, trying to think about anything but the phone in his pocket and whether Jongdae’s read it yet or will even want to talk to him again.

When he reaches his bedroom, he places his phone on his bed, deciding he’ll look at it again for any potential messages once he’s dressed. He knows he’s trying to put off possible disappointment but after a weekend of moping, he’s not sure if he can handle further rejection. He dresses comfortably, still having no plans to leave the house, and he can’t deny that disappointment shoots through him when he sees that he’s not had a reply.

Telling himself he’s silly for expecting a reply so quickly, he grabs his laptop to take downstairs, planning on researching some new recipes to experiment with. Chanyeol shakes his head at Kyungsoo’s choice of clothes when they come out of their rooms at the same time. The former is dressed nicely with his hair styled, making Kyungsoo look like a mess in comparison.

Looking Chanyeol up and down before heading towards the stairs, Kyungsoo asks, “Date with Baekhyun?”

Following him down the stairs, Chanyeol responds, “Yeah we’re checking out a new record shop in town, probably be gone for a few hours.”

Kyungsoo heads into the living room, stopping and looking back when he hears Chanyeol ask, “You gonna be okay alone if I go?”

Shaking his head amusedly, Kyungsoo responds, “I’ll be fine Yeol, I’m not a child.”

He hears Chanyeol call out, “Could’ve fooled me”, just before the front door shuts. Rolling his eyes to himself, Kyungsoo sits down on the couch, turning his laptop on.

As sure as he was that he’d be okay, the silence of the house feels suffocating and all he can think about is checking his phone. Turning on the television for background noise, Kyungsoo throws himself into his research, succeeding for an hour at least. After an hour, he convinces himself that surely it’s okay to check his phone now.

Reaching forward to get his phone from where he’d placed it on the coffee table, he can’t help but feel nervous as he tilts the phone forward to light the screen up. A moment of happiness shoots through him when he notices a text message notification but it’s quickly followed by disappointment when he realises the message is from Mingyu.

Feeling like a bad friend for his reaction, he clicks on the notification, reading Mingyu’s message, ‘KYUNGSOO HELP’

Kyungsoo chuckles to himself at Mingyu’s dramatic ways, responding ‘what’s wrong, Mingyu?’

Moments later Kyungsoo’s phone rings, and Mingyu’s name appears on the screen. Kyungsoo takes a moment to prepare himself for interaction outside of Chanyeol before answering the call.

He can barely start to say hello when Mingyu blurts out, “Kyungsoo, Wonwoo is on a date right now at my workplace, I can’t handle this.”

Kyungsoo chuckles quietly before responding, “How do you want me to help you?”

“God, I don’t know Kyungsoo, maybe you can at least come to the cafe to distract me.”

Kyungsoo sighs loudly, weighing up his options in his head. He settles on the thought that really it’ll be good to get himself out of the house, responding, “Okay fine, text me the address.”

Mingyu sighs in relief, loudly saying, “Thank you Kyungsoo, I love you!”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, mumbling out, “Yeah yeah, see you soon”, before hanging up.

He takes a moment to prepare himself before dragging himself off the couch and up the stairs to his bedroom. One look in the mirror has him realising how much of a state he let himself become and he decides in that moment to sort himself out.

It takes him about 15 minutes to wash up and get changed and then he’s checking his phone for the address Mingyu sent him. Surprised by the fact he had no idea Mingyu had started working at the same cafe as Sehun, he pulls on his shoes and heads out of the house, texting Mingyu that he’s just left.

The fresh air is nice and the sun feels warm on his skin. Kyungsoo hates that he let himself hide away for a whole 2 days, telling himself that it was pathetic of him. He makes sure to enjoy his surroundings, looking all around him as he walks the familiar route to the cafe.

The walk only takes around 15 minutes and soon he’s arriving at the cafe, spotting Wonwoo and his supposed date sitting at a window table. He opens the door to the cafe and immediately is greeted by Mingyu, who clumsily pulls Kyungsoo into the cafe, loudly saying, “Kyungsoo, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Kyungsoo allows himself to be dragged to the ordering point, scanning the cafe for Sehun who he hasn’t seen in a long time. His eyes finally land on him, a smile appearing on his face at the sight of Sehun clinging to another attractive man, said man giggling. Sehun then makes eye contact with Kyungsoo, a wider grin appearing on his face as he comes up to the ordering point Mingyu has dragged Kyungsoo to.

Mingyu practically hangs on Kyungsoo’s shoulders as Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at Sehun and asks, “Who’s the cutie?”

A blush appears on Sehun’s cheeks as he says, “He’s called Jongin, he’s a new worker like Mingyu.”

Kyungsoo can’t help the smirk on his face as he says, “Mhmm okay, and how long have you liked Jongin for?”

Sehun’s eyes widen, quickly checking to see if Jongin’s heard before hissing out, “I don’t like Jongin!”

Kyungsoo lets out a chuckle and says, “Alright well you let me know when you’ve stopped being so dumb. Also, I’ll have a black coffee please.”

Sehun rolls his eyes, starting to ring up the order on the till as he says, “I don’t see you in months and you call me dumb, thanks Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo laughs, paying for his drink as he says, “You’re welcome, Sehunnie!” He’s almost immediately dragged away to a table by Mingyu, being pushed into a chair.

Mingyu pulls up the chair opposite and says, “God, Kyungsoo, what do I do? I can’t handle my crush on a date here.”

Kyungsoo glances over at Wonwoo again, observing him and his supposed date for a moment before saying, “Are you sure it’s a date Mingyu? It doesn’t seem very date-like.”

“He’s here with a girl, they hugged when he arrived, I’m pretty sure it’s a date”

“You do know men can be friends with women, right Mingyu?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, loudly exclaiming, “Of course I do, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen as he sees Wonwoo’s head turn their way. A look of recognition settling on his face as he stands and begins to walk over. Mingyu swings his head around to see what Kyungsoo’s looking at before he looks back at Kyungsoo with a look of horror.

Mingyu hisses out, “What the fuck do I do?”

Kyungsoo chuckles and pats Mingyu’s arm sympathetically as he says, “Just relax, he’s probably just coming to say hi.”

Wonwoo strides up to the table moments later, grinning at the two of them as he says, “I didn’t know you two were here! What brings you to this cafe?”

Noticing Mingyu is unable to answer, Kyungsoo shrugs and says, “Mingyu started working here recently and my friend Sehun works here too so I thought I’d just come to see them both! What about you? On a date?”

Wonwoo laughs loudly, glancing back at the woman he’s left at the table as he responds, “God no, I’m just having a catch-up with my cousin, she’s in town for the week.”

Trying not to chuckle at Mingyu visibly relaxing, Kyungsoo says, “My bad, that must be nice!”

Wonwoo nods, looking at Mingyu as he says, “So, how long have you been working here Mingyu? I’ve been coming here for a while and haven’t seen you.”

Mingyu starts stuttering out an answer and seeing Wonwoo’s look of endearment, Kyungsoo takes that as his cue to move away. Sehun signals to him that his coffee is ready and Kyungsoo strolls over to the drink collection counter.

Jongin, the new kid, holds the takeaway cup with his coffee in out to him, grinning as he says, “You’re Kyungsoo, right?”

Kyungsoo nods as he takes the coffee, “Yeah that’s me! Thanks for the coffee.”

“Sehunnie’s told me so much about you! It’s nice to finally meet you.”

A soft smile appears on Kyungsoo’s face at the nickname and he responds, “Nice to meet you too! I’m going to head off so see you around.”

Kyungsoo waves goodbye to Sehun, heading towards the door to the cafe. He’s just stepped outside when he hears a voice call out, “Kyungsoo!”

Turning towards the sound of the voice, Kyungsoo’s eyes land on Jongdae rushing towards him with a grin on his face.

Kyungsoo tenses up, not really ready to see Jongdae so soon. He doesn’t hug back when Jongdae pulls him into a hug.

Jongdae pulls back to look at Kyungsoo, hands on either side of Kyungsoo’s arms, a frown on his face as he says, “Kyungsoo, what’s wrong?”

Kyungsoo sighs, realising this is the moment he needs to talk to Jongdae about what he heard. Jongdae reaches towards Kyungsoo’s face as if to cup it and Kyungsoo steps backwards out of his hold.

Jongdae’s frown deepens as he asks, “What’s going on?”

Kyungsoo runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly before finally breathing out, “Jongdae, we need to talk.”

#chensoo #chanbaek #sekai #exo fanfic #fanfiction #Kyungsoo fanfic #chen fanfic #Kyungsoo #chen #jongdae #chanyeol #mingyu #wonwoo #kai #jongin #exo #d.o #university au

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monstermaster13 · 1 year

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'Any or all of the above, but on a realm that isn't deviantART that he can't delete your entries on (Or have someone else do it for him).' Oh I get it, act like a rendundant jackass who only agrees with the opinions of others because sucking up to other people of your ilk and making yourself look normal in comparison to your victim is totally not a hypocritical thing to do. Honestly, you could have gotten rid of the other 'tell him a were-insert-thing-here is a stupid fursona to have' entries because it's just the same joke with a different target for the punchline and the punchline doesn't land, yeah...this is why your movies failed. Also you're just lucky Nicovid is all in Japanese and that Nathan can't easily translate Japanese or those stolen works you did featuring his counterpart would have been reported easily.

'Tell him he is violating copyright law. ' You guys do know what fanart/fanfiction is, right? How is kinning as a character from an existing book, movie or show infringing copyright law? He isn't stealing the name of the character or making a profit off of it, and if it's about the Grinch thing. You DO know that the Grinch wasn't the first Christmas story about a miser that hates Christmas getting a change of heart, right? That's right, Christmas Carol was the first and did it first. Yet nobody back when the original Grinch book was published said 'this is just a kids version of A Christmas Carol, come up with some more original material' to Dr Seuss, and why would they? As far as I know, the only thing both characters have in common is that their names are now adjectives in the dictionary, and also both stories are Christmas stories that both have a grouchy character getting a change of heart, but that's about it well apart from Jim Carrey being in adaptations of both that is. And aaaw come on, we know Audrey Geisel wouldn't likely be bothered by fanart of her late husband's characters, besides...we know that the only adapation of his work she truly hated was the live-action Cat in The Hat and that was bad enough to make her ban live-action adaptations of her husband's work from being made. And for the record, the 'Mean One' horror movie is a parody.

'Tell him that his friend Andria Kilgore is a sockpuppet' Actually...spoiler alert, the fake Andria was a villain, a male villain who was a yandere for Nathan's female counterpart Natalie and wanted to make her his wife and he pretended to be many people including different ethnicities, for the purpose of trying to drive her insane, and yet he was still one of the more better written villains in the show.

'Tell him that he will go to a group home or a mental hospital when his parents die'...jokes on you, only one of Nathan's parents died and also Nathan still goes to his mom's place on the weekends, he just has a nice place with some new flat mates in it, and excuse me, I believe you're referring to yourselves because of the twist at the very last Daloli-verse movie in the series where it's revealed Natalie never was really there and that the fake Andria and the others were actually in a mental hospital being experimented on as they turned out to be part of a cult.

'Call Natalie a budos olah.' This is when the insults get racially insensitive, you see Natalie in one of the daloli-verse movies admitted that she was part Romani, and this is why she takes it as an offense when the daloli-verse goons called her a budos olah, I believe it was in the third movie. So using a hungarian term to insult someone who is half Romani, is not a good thing.

'Make fun of New Zealand or Romania maliciously'...What did either of those countries do to you? Apart from Natalie coming from the latter and one of you guys must obviously be racist regarding the views you have people from that country, and Nathan living in New Zealand, that is no reason to hate either countries.

#Monstermaster13 #Stubborn comments

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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Yandere Rei Hurting Reader Pt2

Yes yes. Its out now. I won't delete this one. Enjoy!

Part 1 is here. Part 3 here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todoroki Clan:

It had been so awful at first. So hard for everyone to adjust to the new change. Of course, it was especially difficult for you to adapt to the new circumstances.

When you had first woken up after the unfortunate incident, approximately 3 days later, you didn't expect to be home so soon. You expected- you hoped that you would wake up in the hospital and have them call the authorities. Then again, you also didn't expect never being able to use your eyes again.

Shotou was the first one to notice when you had woken up from your coma. He hadn't left your side since the accident. He jumped from his seat beside you and held the glass of water to your lips when you tried to speak. The family came rushing in when he called for them, announcing that you had woken up. You could hear Fuyumi and her crying tears of joy as Natsuo came to check your vitals. You knew your eyes were bandaged, which was expected because of the hot oil that was poured on them, but when you asked Natsuo when they were coming off, he went silent. Your heart sank when he told you what had happened, how your eyes were fucking fried to the point that the arteries supplying them were also destroyed, which meant they couldn't be replaced, ever.

You screamed a lot that day; you would've cried but you didn't have any tear ducts. You didn't let anyone touch you at first, especially Rei. You would scream, throw yourself away from her if you felt her come near you. Eventually, Natsuo put some sort of tranquilliser into your IV, finally calming you down.

Being blind was hard, you knew that. But you didn't know that it would also be this humiliating. After the accident, they had starting infantalizing you even more, doing the most miniscule things for you.

Shotou would be the first person who greeted you in the morning and usually the last person to put you to bed at night. He would carry you around everywhere you go, telling you its simply unsafe for you to walk on your own. Sure you bumped into the furniture a few times and it was a bit hard maintaining your balance, but that didn't mean you needed him to carry you around everywhere. You had asked him to get you a cane, but he only said "why do you need a stick when you have me? Just tell me where you want to go".

Each morning, Shotou would take you down the stairs to the toilet and more often than not, have Fuyumi come and help you, even for brushing your teeth. Then he would take you to the dining table where everyone is waiting for you. Fuyumi would give your breakfast to Shotou, who would cut it up and feed you. Once you're done eating, you would wait for Shotou to finish his food. During breakfast, everyone would make small talk while you remained quiet. After everyone's finished eating, Fuyumi and Rei would take dishes to sink. You would've helped, but everyone's pretty much forbidden you from entering the kitchen.

Shotou would then carry you either to his room or the living room, where he would turn on the TV and tell you what's happening. But since this always makes you remember how you don't have eyes, he would usually just read you some book. Somehow, they're always about princesses and fairytales. You were getting sick of hearing them.

Fuyumi would later come and fetch you, and take you to your bath. While you would be cleaning yourself, after politely declining help from Fuyumi each time, she would be out preparing your clothes for the day. She would explain to you what you're wearing and how you look, and how she's going to style your hair. As if any of these things mattered to you. But even if they did, its not like you'd have a say in anything.

You still remember the first time you were taking a bath, after finally convincing Fuyumi to let you have the "luxury" to clean yourself up. You finally had some time for yourself, alone and away from the rest of the house. You sank in the warm water in the tub, allowing yourself to relax. The privacy was comforting, but not long lasting, as you felt cold hands touch your shoulders. In an instant, you jumped away screaming. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!" Rei tried coming closer to you but you kept on screeching at the top of your lungs, alerting the whole house. "FUYUMI! SHOTOU! GET HER AWAY! SHOTOU GET HER AWAY!" At that point you didn't even care if they saw you nude, they just need to save you from her. The siblings rushed to the bathroom and upon seeing your huddled form in the corner and their mother sobbing, Fuyumi hastily covered you with a towel while Shotou took Rei out of there.

Shotou tried to make you understand that Rei was just trying to help you. That she just missed you and wanted to take care of you. He was basically telling you not to be afraid of her, and that your trauma is not valid. You stopped talking to him after that, only spoke when absolutely necessary.

Natsuo would pick you up after your bath while Fuyumi went to make lunch. He would check your eyes (or lack there of), put on some ointments and replace the bandages with fresh ones. Fuyumi would come with your lunch and after she'd fed you, Natsuo would give you your medicine. They always make you sleepy, so you'd be put down for a nap.

Dabi wasn't always around, but when he was, he was still the asshole he was before. He would move your things to different places, or place stuff in your way so that'd you'd trip (he always caught you before you face planted), all so that you would ask him for help he could get a rise out of you. But you would just sigh and move on.

Enji liked to take you to the garden and read you books and newspapers. It was alright you guess, but you wanted to do something yourself, especially since they still didn't take you out of the house. You had asked him for a Braille, but he only replied "You don't need to stress yourself with that. I'll always be there to read you whatever you want."

If Enji's running late, then Shotou would take you to the swings in the garden, pushing you as he tells what happened at school or with friends. After dinner, you’d be forced to spend some more time with your siblings, before you’d be tucked into bed.

That has been the routine for the past 6 months since your accident. And the family really felt like everything was returning to normal. It was, for them. This is how they always wanted things to happen: you, locked up in the house while they stripped you of all autonomy and infantalized you to the point where it was harming you, both physically and mentally. Your body was growing weak, your muscles got easily fatigued from their lack of use. And the pills Natsuo gave you didn't really help the case. They made you sleepy, and you think they even caused hallucinations since you felt like someone was in your room or someone was playing with your hair.

Even though you were stuck at home all day, you still never talked to Rei. Well she tried, but you would be the one to always flinch away. She wouldn't address herself when she entered your room, but you would still feel her lurking around the corners. And why should you acknowledge her? Especially after what she's done?

Enji wasnt ignorant of your condition. He could see how quiet you had gotten, and how scared you were of Rei. He was getting worried for you. What were you thinking about? Enji knew if he didn't talk to you, things will get worse.

You were sitting by the lounge window with Fuyumi who was telling you about her day. Fuyumi greeted him when he came in the room. "Hey, dad!" Enji nodded. "Fuyumi, would you leave us? I'd like to talk to Y/n." Fuyumi nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead before she left the room, only Enji noticing how you stiffened at her affection. He sat beside you and cleared his throat. "How are you?" "Fine. You?"you softly asked. "I'm good, too. I wanted to talk to you about something. About...your mom." "My mom's dead." Enji cleared his throat. "I meant Rei." "Oh. What about her?" "Why haven't you been talking to her?" You remained silent. “What happened was an accident-” “It wasnt an accident. An accident is spilling milk. Not pouring hot oil in someone’s eyes.” Enji knew this was coming.“She didn’t do it on purpose-” You cut him off again. “She did! She knew exactly what she was doing.” “Why would she do that?” “I don’t know. She hates me or something.” Enji grabbed your hand gently. “You know that's not true. Rei loves you very much and she cares about you a lot.” You didn't say anything. “Do you remember the day you came to our house?” You nodded. “Yeah. It was a few days after my parents funeral.” “Yes. And do you remember what Rei said to you?” You stiffened before nodding again. “She said that she may not be my real mother, but she’ll love me more than anyone ever has and ever will. Always.” “Yes. And has she not? Has she not loved you more than anyone?” You nodded slowly as Enji continued. “Between you and me, she’s always favoured you among all of your siblings.” You smiled at that. “So, are you willing to give your mother a chance?” You paused for a few minutes. “I- I cant.” Enji sighed. “Look. I know you’re scared. I understand. I know you want to blame Rei for what happened, but believe me when I tell you it wasn't her fault. It was an accident.” You shook your head. “And what if another “accident” like that happens again? And what if I dont survive this time? And what if-” Your voice broke down. Enji pulled you into his lap. “It won't. I promise. And if something like that does occur, I’ll be there to stop it.” Enji pressed a kiss to your hair. “I’ll save you. I promise.”

With Enji's persuasion, you had started mending your relationship with Rei again. Sure, you still flinched when she touched you and you were still hesitant to initiate conversations with her, but none of that bothered Rei. You were trusting her again, and she was more than happy to do more on her part to make you comfortable.

And you won't lie, but life was better with Rei. She knew when Dabi or Shotou were becoming too overbearing, or when Natsuo was fussing over you for no reason. She was there to stop Fuyumi from chatting your ear away, and knew when to stop Enji from feeding you too many sweets.

And Enji could see that Rei was sorry for what she did. He saw how she would often massage ointments on your face, her fingers barely tracing the charred area around your eyes before pulling away quickly. And other times, like today, as he stood by your bedroom door, he saw how gentle she was with you as she tucked you into your bed. He kissed his wife once she had left your room. "How are my girls doing?" Enji asked Rei in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake you up. Rei smiled. "Good." They slowly started walking back to their room. "Shes an angel, Enji. So sweet." Enji hummed in agreement. "Can I tell you something?" Enji stopped and turned to face his wife. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm kind of glad what happened...to her." Rei was smiling. "She's so much better like this. So docile now. I...I don't regret what I did, you know?" Enji's blood ran cold. "Rei... dont tell me- you didn't do that on purpose, did you?" Rei nodded, a bit too eagerly. "I know, I know. It wasn't ethical. And if I could, I would've taken away her pain in a heartbeat. But you must agree that its much better now, right?" Enji couldn't believe what Rei was confessing. "I mean, look at her now. She doesn't even try running away. She knows- she feels safer with us, inside." Rei sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I thought that maybe it wouldn't come to this. I thought that after Touya took care of her parents, she'd be a bit more scared to be outside on her own. That's why we told her they died in a car crash." Rei rested her cheek on his chest. "It scares me what I'm willing to do for her, Enji." Enji knew Dabi had something to do with what happened to your parents, but knowing Rei had a hand in it too, or more precisely, she was the one who told Touya to get rid of them. Enji didn't know what to do with this new side of his wife. But he did know he had to keep her hidden from you, so he ushered his wife to their bedroom, not knowing you had already heard them.

You had realised a couple of things that night. One, Rei and Dabi had murdered your parents. Two, Rei pouring the hot oil in your eyes wasn't some sort of psychotic episode. Three, Enji and the others were going to take Rei's side, no matter what.

A few weeks later, your birthday came around. The siblings had left the house to get some things for your birthday party, leaving you in the care of their parents. Rei was in the kitchen cooking up a whole feast for you, while you sat beside Enji in the lounge as he read the newspaper. Enji had already given you your present. It was giant teddy bear with chocolates from Belgium. They were utterly delicious. When you stood up, he asked you where you were going. You pointed at the box of chocolates in your hand. "I'm going to share them with, mom. Unless, thats not okay?"you asked meekly. Enji still wasn't all that comfortable with letting you and Rei be alone, especially after her confession. But... if he doesn't let you go to her alone, you'll always be afraid of her. And its not like Rei will hurt you again, right? Besides, the kitchen is just down the hallway. He's sure nothing will happen. He nodded. "Okay. Should I walk you there?" "No. Its down the hall. I think I'll be fine on my own." Enji then allowed you to go, telling you to call for him if you need anything.

Rei was chopping up some vegetables when she heard your footsteps. She turned around to find you standing just outside the kitchen. "Hey, angel! What are you doing here?" You remained outside the kitchen as you spoke. "I wanted to share these chocolates dad got for me. W-would you like some?" Oh, you're so kind. Rei quickly wiped her hands on a kitchen towel before walking towards you and leading you to the dining room in front of the kitchen. She helped you sit down before taking a seat next to you. "You want me to have your chocolates? But didn't daddy gift them to you?" You bit your lip as you replied. "Well yes, but I- I wanted to share them with you so that I could- I wanted to thank you for taking care of me. And for loving me. I would've gotten you something else but I'm not allowed to go outside..."you mumbled the last sentence, but that didn't matter as Rei quickly hugged you. "Oh honey! You're so sweet!" Rei took a piece of chocolate from the box that you had extended towards her. "And these chocolates are so delicious! Daddy really loves to spoil you, doesnt he?" Rei pinched your cheek gently. You smiled. "I'm glad you liked them. Especially, after all you've done for me. You deserve them more than I do, honestly." Rei stopped at that. "Honey...what are you talking about?" You smiled. "What? Am I not saying the truth? You deserve these chocolates, and all the sweets and flowers and medals for being the best mother." You popped a chocolate into your mouth before continuing. "After all, the criteria is very high. You need to not only have the intent to kill for your child, but you also have to commit murder. Then kidnap your child and force her to bide to your rules. And if she misbehaves, you must punish her as well, right? Because good behaviour gets chocolate," You popped another chocolate into your mouth. "And bad behaviour gets your eyes fried."

Rei just stared at you in disbelief. H-how did you- you didn't hear them talking last night did you? Or did Dabi tell you? Rei stared at you as you ate another piece of chocolate. "I wonder after you've killed me, will you be given chocolates or flowers?" "D-darling, w-what are you saying? I would never hurt you!" You chuckled darkly. "No no. You've done it before and I know you'll do it again. After all, it scares you what you're willing to do for me." You caressed her cheeks, and when you felt her tears, you wiped them. "I'm not saying you have the intention to kill me. No, you'll just hurt me again, another little accident, but this time I won't survive. I just hope you'll bury me somewhere where there's a lot of fresh air, maybe on a hill with a view?" Rei finally broke down at that, falling to her knees as she clung to your legs. "Please! Y/n please forgive me! Please baby, I- I just wanted the best for you. I don't want you to die, I- I promise I'll never hurt you again! I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Please baby, I'll do anything. Just forgive me!" You sighed. "Anything? I don't think you mean that." Rei nodded her vigorously, tears falling everywhere. "I do! I do! Just tell me what to do!" You tapped your chin, pretending to think. "Bring a knife. A sharp one." Rei's eyes widened. "W-What?" "Well...its only right for you to be punished as well. To atone for your sins, right?" "O-okay." Rei went to the kitchen and brought a big knife with her. "Lock the door." She did as you told her. You extended your palm, waiting for her to place the knife. She did. You stood up, right in front of Rei. You told her to stand against a wall, and she followed. You played with the sharp end if the knife. "I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you so bad. I want you to feel the pain, the hell you've put me through." This is it, Rei thought, you're going to kill her. For some reason, she was okay with that. "I want you to know you failed. I want you to know you're a bad mother. A selfish, bad mother." Rei was full on sobbing now. "Look at me. I want you to remember this." And with that you raised the knife before stabbing yourself in the gut, two screams ripping through the manor. Rei shot towards you, her hands trying to pull the knife away. "What did you do?! What did you do?!" Rei was crying. Enji was banging on the locked door for a few seconds before he burned it down and the sight he was met with...was nothing short of a nightmare.

There you layed on the floor, blood sputtering from your mouth, your shirt stained with blood and Rei. Rei, who was hunched over your body, with a bloody knife in her hand, crying out "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!".

Enji rushed towards you, pushing Rei back roughly. You were coughing up blood, your head turned away from him until you felt him touch your face. "D-daddy..."you whimpered out before your breathing came to a stop.

"No. No." Enji quickly gathered your limp body in his arms, running out of the house towards a hospital. He kept on chanting "no", because he didn't want to believe that he failed to protect you.

That he failed to save his daughter, again.

I had 5 different endings in my mind and Idc if this isn't your preferred ending (the ending I had in my mind was something out of Quentin Tarantino's movie). I'm just glad to be done with it.

Anyways, exams are coming up and I'm not going to be posting a lot.

And ill be taking up your follow up questions/asks for this part! I'll also be answering godfather hawks asks now that this part is out.

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strangelysamantha · 3 years

Text

bittersweet ☆

possessive!rafe x plus!sized reader.

warnings: crazy rafe, possessive and obsessive behavior, swearing, underage drinking, reader gets hurt, physical fight, ect.

words: 2,167.

summary: you went to a local party by the beach when rafes unstable side peeked out. jj maybank finds you alone, and decides to talk to you. rafe gets possessive and upset, thinking that jj was hitting on you.

request?: no :)

a/n: i’m working on requests but since my computer is down it’s taking longer because i hate typing on my phone especially because tumblr always deletes what i’ve written. i’m hopeful that my computer will be fixed by tomorrow, until then i’ll try and produce a few stories since i’ve been MIA for a few days. remember to like and comment if you enjoy this! <3

my masterlist

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“please just come with me.” rafe frowned as he sat on your porch pleading to you, telling you why you should go to a beach party with him. “why rafe?” you frown, not in a partying mood. instead, you would much rather stay home and do a movie marathon. “please baby, i swear i’ll make it up to you.” you roll your eyes at his begging. “fine, but only because you are so cute.” his eyes sparkle as a smile lifts on his lips, you pull him into a quick kiss.

you walk back inside to get dressed for the bonfire. rafe was wearing blue and orange, and you wanted to match him. so, you grabbed a pair of dark blue ripped jean shorts, and an orange v-neck. you apply some perfume and jewelry before putting on some shoes. just as you were finishing up, rafe walked into your room smirking. “awh, you wanted to match with me.” he smiled. despite you knowing his look was filled with adoration you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his long glance. “obviously, don’t you want people to know i’m yours?” you question him, waiting for his response. “well, matching clothes won’t change anything. everyone already knows.” you nod smiling before pulling him into a kiss.

once you pull away from the kiss, he grabs your hand and leads you to the car as he drives to the beach. his hand finding its way on your thigh; gripping it tightly. while he drove to the beach, you paid close attention to your phone, checking social media for any major updates. rafes grasp on your thigh loosened as the car came to a halt. you were parked on the beach, the sun was already setting.

you both exit the car, rafe swiftly moving from his side of the car to yours. “thank you for coming with me.” his hand finds yours, pulling them together. “of course, i love hanging out with you.” he lets go of your hand, and moves his arm to hold closely around your waist. the two of you begin to walk towards the already drunken teen filled beach.

you frown at the amount of trash that litters the sand. you stay close to rafe, as he approaches topper and kelce. “hey guys.” you say to them to make conversation. they nod in your direction, acknowledging you before their attention turns towards rafe again. you don’t pay any mind to what the boys are discussing. after a while you become bored, so you slowly slip out of rafes arm to go get a drink. “i’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” you ask rafe, and he glances at you smiling. “yes please, thanks baby.” you lean in for a quick kiss before leaving to go get drinks. you weren’t a heavy drinker, always scared of what you would say or do under the influence, so you grab yourself a water and grab a beer for rafe.

you return to the spot you were in earlier, but it’s now vacant. rafe, topper, and kelce all leaving you behind. you frown, looking around for them but coming up short. you had no idea where they could be since this beach was huge. you don’t bother wasting your time looking for them, instead you start to head for the bonfire.

you weren’t surprised that rafe had left you all alone. this always happened. he would beg you to go to something, just to abandon you half way through it. it didn’t bother you, it just worried you, scared of what he was doing without you.

once you arrived at the bonfire, you decided to down the drink once made for rafe, the beer stinging your throat. you drank three more chugs before drinking water as well. it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to come into effect. you knew it had clouded your judgement when you were laughing at jj maybanks jokes of all people. “i’m telling you, these people were fucking crazy.” you giggled as he made exaggerated reactions. “you’re telling me! that sounds scary as fuck. i wouldn’t have survived.” he shook his head looking down at you, “i’m sure you would have figured something out.” you nod at him.

“have you seen those dudes since?” you ask, intrigued by his story. “actually, yeah. their story isn’t the brightest… sheriff told me that they-” his voice cut off as he made a slicing noise above his throat. your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god! really??” you grab his arm, “what if they came back for you! bro no way…” your heart rate quickens at the thought of evil men chasing random kids. “no, i know right, scary as shit. i guess it’s bittersweet because they died, but now they aren’t after us anymore.” he shrugs, sipping his red solo cup. “i guess. it’s still scary. so many people are unexpectedly dying nowadays, i definitely-” you were interrupted as rafe put an arm around you, eyeing jj up and down.

“continue baby, what were you saying?” rafe asked, smiling at you for a split second before it disappeared when his eyes focused on jj again. “oh we were just talking about bad men, and how this town is scarier than it used to be.” he nods at you. “jj what are you doing talking to my girl?” jj stands up straighter, “why do you care? do you own her or something?” rafe scoffed, “yes.” the confusion on your face was evident and jj was quick on acknowledging it. “oh really? by the look on her face, she doesn’t agree.” he glances at you, but you have quickly recovered. “what are you talking about maybank?” you interrupted the two immediately not wanting a fight to break out. “i was just talking to jj because he had a funny story. it wasn’t anything like that, i swear babe.” you words slurred together and it was evident you weren’t in the right headspace.

rafes eyes widened as he fully realized that you were so intoxicated that you had no idea what was going on, “what the fuck maybank? you got her drunk for what? you trying to fuck her?” jj couldn’t believe rafes nerve. “one, she was drunk when she came up to me, and two, i don’t need to fuck her, i already have.” your heart dropped at jj's confession.

“maybank, do you want to take that back?” you could tell rafe was trying to give jj a chance to redeem himself before all hell breaks loose. your hand tightened on rafes bicep trying to get him to move on, but he wouldn’t budge. “can't take back what’s already happened.” jj shrugged again, smirking.

rafe was the first one to throw a punch, you stumbled back as he had pushed you away. with your luck, your head had landed right against the beverage table, scratching the side of your face from your temple to the side of your cheek. you hiss in pain, moving your fingers to feel it. when you retreat your hand you see it covered in blood. you groan in pain, hissing as the cool air makes it sting.

you clumsy stand up, looking ahead to see rafe and jj were still fighting. “rafe!” you weakly call out, but he was stuck in his own little bubble as he pounded his fists against jjs face. you stumble away, walking far from the beach. you were too tired to even try to process what was going on. the yelling behind you quietly faded as you made your way farther along the beach.

not even a minute later you hear rafe running after you. “what rafe?” you ask, but your back is still turned to him. “baby, please just- i’m sorry okay. i, i don’t know. i was just scared he’d take you from me. i don’t want to lose you, you are all i have. you mean too much to me for some pogue to take.” his rambling only pissed you off more. “rafe, please. i have a headache, all i want is to go home.” you frown.

his eyes moved from the sand up to your face, surprised by the huge gash on your face that was oozing blood. “baby?! who did this to you?” you couldn’t contain your anger any longer. you used all your strength, pushing his shoulders back. “you did! you fucking asshole.” the fact that he didn’t even budge from the push you sent his way, pissed you off even more. “baby, i, you know i would never do anything to intentionally hurt you?” your silence only scared him even more.

“baby, i wouldn’t- i didn’t mean to hurt you.” his breathing was heavy as the realization hit him. he had undeniably hurt you, and he had undoubtedly lost you. “no, because this can’t be happening. i can't lose you. baby, i- it was an accident. please, you gotta understand i didn’t want to hurt you, it was just jj fucking all over you, and the way he tried to claim you, saying he already had you, it just- the anger i couldn’t even hold myself back.” you nod at his words. “rafe i understand that. i, just. i don’t want this. do you think i want you to assault every guy who even looks at me? it makes me feel like shit. do you know how shitty it makes me feel? that you think i would chose anyone else when i have you. it hurts to know that you think i’m not loyal enough.” you frown, tears easily falling out of your eyes.

“baby- it’s not you i’m worried about.” you nod, “i know… it just doesn’t feel that way.” he goes to speak again but you quickly interrupt him. “can we please continue this at your house? my head seriously hurts.” his eyes soften, his hand cupping your cheek. he hesitated before he pulled you into a kiss, when you kissed him back he could feel his smile come back. “rafe.” you say again, before pointing to your head. “right baby, i’m sorry. let's go.” you nod.

he walks you to his car, opening the door for you before you hop in. he puts your seatbelt on for you. his protective side shining through once again. he walks around, before hopping in himself. he starts the car. “seatbelt…?.” you question. he laughs quietly. “of course, baby.” you nod as he puts his seatbelt on. his hand reached for your thigh again, before he drove the two of you to his house.

when you arrived, your head was pounding. you could feel it throbbing, the blood dripping onto your orange v neck. you frown at the sight. the two of you walk inside, and he immediately pulls you into his room, placing you on the edge of his bed. he runs to his bathroom grabbing a table cloth and the first aid kit.

he opens the first aid kit, placing it beside you. he takes the wet washcloth, wiping away the blood. after cleaning it, he added antibacterial cream, and then covered it in gauze. he kissed the bandage covering it before walking to his closet.

“here. wear this, and i’ll wash your t-shirt.” you nod, “thank you rafe.” he turns around and you swiftly change your t-shirt. he turns around, his heart hammering inside his chest, still scared about where you stood.

“rafe. i don’t want to lose you. i love you a lot, but i don’t want to continue this if every time a guy looks at me funny, you beat him up. i appreciate you protecting me, but they aren’t worth it.” he nods, soaking up every word. “if you can promise me that you won’t fight random people anymore, then i think we can work this out, and work through this.” he smiles softly, “is that a deal?” you ask. “of course baby. i promise i won’t fight anyone unless they really deserve it.” you roll your eyes, “fine. that’s good enough; but please, let’s hope it doesn’t get too bad.” he laughs, “let’s hope.” you grab his hands, realizing they were quite bruised. “let’s ice these.” he follows you to the kitchen, as you prepare an ice pack.

once the ice pack is ready, you place it on one hand, the other is intently grabbing your thigh. “baby you don’t have to do all this.” he reached for the ice and you lightly pushed his hand away. “you fixed me up, let me fix you up.” he sat back and watched as you cared for his bruises. rafe was glad he didn’t lose you, and he was glad you were still there with him. having you so close to him made him realize he couldn’t sacrifice anything to lose you. he kissed your bandages once more before you two prepared for bed and started to comfortably cuddle together.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #possessive rafe cameron #plus size reader #rafe cameron x plus!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron story #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron obx imagine #rafe imagine

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spice-chan · 3 years

Text

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard.

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.”

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips.

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize.

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none.

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface.

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift.

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest.

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders.

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further.

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear.

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second.

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface.

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.”

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth.

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t.

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon.

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to.

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now?

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.”

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks.

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.” Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise.

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor.

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong.

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard.

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting.

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off.

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit.

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you.

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter.

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him, making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant.

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper.

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute.

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey.

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content.

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it.

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you.

“So it's true, huh?”

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused.

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him.

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.”

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really.

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.”

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside.

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat.

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized.

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water.

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear.

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again.

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.”

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions.

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do.

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes.

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace.

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous.

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right?

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions.

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions.

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine.

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth.

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him.

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile.

“You look dumb”

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away.

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry?

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool.

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner.

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving.

You were sleeping.

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle.

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily.

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red.

He wondered how much you cried.

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone.

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy.

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly.

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.”

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*.

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.”

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous.

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less.

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly.

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop.

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs.

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone.

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you.

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable.

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes.

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad.

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure.

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating.

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore.

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him.

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved.

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red.

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant?

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter.

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words.

You slapped his hand away.

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall.

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you”

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.”

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist.

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman?

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.”

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou.

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator.

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute.

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is.

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over.

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you.

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you.

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules.

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled.

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile.

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck.

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair.

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you.

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly.

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.”

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.”

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing.

Is that all it takes to win you over?

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed.

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison.

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